


Sudden Impulse

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Lemon, M/M, Minor Violence, Original Character(s), POV Duo Maxwell, Romance, Yaoi, by FancyFigures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:38:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by FancyFigures--Duo gives way to a sudden impulse - one that seems to be someone else's, as well. And so he's drawn to something - and someone - that he finds both thrilling and unnerving. Heero is like no-one he's met before; he's used to being in control. What develops between them is hot, and fierce and potentially very, very dangerous...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I don't like going to clubs any more. I don't get drunk. I don't do casual sex.   
  
Great introduction, eh? I'm assuming you're not interested in anything else about me. Like - how I look; what books I read; what films I watch. What I think about the weather; what church I follow. If I like basketball over baseball. What my favourite colour is; do I spit, smoke or take drugs. What do I think about guys who do...   
  
Whether my preference is for boys or girls. Or neither. Or both!   
  
No - I'm bypassing all of that crap.   
  
So what the hell is the story I'm gonna tell you here?   
  
It's the story of how my life was turned upside down. When every core assurance I've ever had about myself was undermined.   
  
Lost.   
  
And what I'm gonna do about it.   
  
*   
  
I was tired and I was in a foul mood when the guys suggested a trip down town. There was a new club opened - Club UnderGround - and it was fast becoming 'the' place to be. Hell, I'm often tired and in a foul mood nowadays! They laugh, and they kid me about it, but the fact remains I'm poor company. I guess they only bear with it out of a residual tolerance - some gesture towards the intangible, but firm bond we seem to have created anew, just by living in the same apartment for these last few months.   
  
Yeah, and I know what they'd say in reply; that it's more than that. Of course they would. They're great guys, and I'm just jaded. Quatre and Trowa were already living together, like a happy honeymoon couple, when six months ago, I bowled up at their door with nowhere to go, and a nagging scar on my lower back that looked suspiciously like a knife wound. They'd spoken to me only a dozen times in a coupla years, even though I was only a city away from them - they'd not seen me for over a year. And we'd been close friends before that, when we were kids. We go way back, y'see. Back to when I was the poor orphan from the children's' home, and they were the guys offered to see me round a new school.   
  
They never asked what had happened to me, during that time I was away, and I was damn grateful for that - though it was pretty obvious, when I had only one set of clothes, no money, and a less-than-attractive aroma. 'Sleeping Rough' by Calvin Klein, it most certainly wasn't!   
  
And we've been easy enough together ever since. They're both well-off - Q has family money, anyway - but I wouldn't live off them, however little it bothered them. I got a temporary job at the site round the corner, and took the usual stick for being young, slim and having the braid, and then when I lifted twice the girders as any other guy, the foreman nodded me into the team, and the harassment tailed off. The job became another contract, and then another - I'm fairly well settled now. I pay my way at the apartment, and it's big enough so that we don't trample over each other all the time.   
  
They don't often get embarrassed, the guys. They're a genuine, nine-carat committed couple, and have been for over a year - they smooch, and they touch, and often I hear 'em making out in bed at night. Trowa's surprisingly noisy when his blood's up. So I have to deal with that, and it's fine by me. I'm not jealous - I haven't looked for any company myself for a long time. And I have no issues with them being a coupla guys. Hell, I go with 'em to their clubs now and then, and they're pretty broad in their tastes. No - they've been great friends to me, and although I promise them at least once a week that I'll get up enough dough to get my own place, I don't feel that they're rushing me out.   
  
So anyway, they wanted to go out, to let off some steam, paint things a little scarlet. It was Saturday night, Trowa got some new promotion at work, and one of Quatre's multitudinous female relatives just got married or whatever. I couldn't find much to offer to the occasion, except that I hadn't run up any extraordinary debts this month, nor slapped any of my co-workers around like I sometimes did. For me - that's an achievement.   
  
Over the last few months, the move back into civilised life has been a struggle. But I set myself targets, and I'm gonna keep to 'em. I owe it to the guys - and to myself.   
  
They kept on at me - in that pleasant, conversational, _relentless_ way that Quatre has - and in the end I agreed to go. I dragged on my one decent outfit - a dark purple silk shirt over my habitual white vest, and a well-cut pair of black jeans. I grabbed my old leather jacket, and joined the guys at the door. Trowa stood there, with an arm brushing casually against Quatre's hip. He looked me up and down, and raised his eyebrows.   
  
"What?" I blustered. "Got a zit on my nose or something? Flies hanging open?"   
  
"I almost wish they were!" he smirked. "You look pretty good, y'know?"   
  
"Tongue back in ya mouth, T!" I snapped back, but happily enough. I've never felt uncomfortable with Trowa - with either of 'em. I know it's all just banter. I assume I'm not their type! "Now I know why I don't come out with you guys so often -"   
  
"You can come out to me anytime you like," grinned Trowa, deliberately misunderstanding me. Quatre's hand appeared at his head, and slapped him resoundingly. Such a gentle-looking guy - such a mean-fisted fighter! Trowa yelped.   
  
"Sense of humour failure, OK?" he growled. His attention was back on his lover, and the sparkle was back in his eyes. Guess Quatre knew he just liked to flirt - but nothing else. Christ, what would the Blond Billionaire do to him if he truly played away? And the swipe seemed to have been forgotten, already; Trowa was murmuring some apologetic nonsense into his ear, and Quatre was aimlessly fondling the front of his pants. Jeez, we hadn't even got out of the front door yet!   
  
I sighed. "Can we get the hell started? If you're gonna jump each other on the landing, can you at least move to the side so I can go get my own supper?"   
  
Like I say, they ain't embarrassed. Quatre grinned at me, and pulled gently away from Trowa.   
  
"Sorry, Duo. You're right, we must get going, or there'll be no supper for any of us. The restaurant closes early for the club music to start."   
  
"Don't care about that," I grunted. "Just some food and a drink to be sociable - then I get a cab back, OK?"   
  
Quatre caught my arm as I wriggled past him. I didn't look at him, at first. His voice was serious now.   
  
"Duo, you OK about this? We just wanted you to be with us tonight. You don't have enough fun. You always used to..."   
  
I bit off the sharp reply. He didn't need it, not tonight. "I'm fine, Q. Sorry - I'm a bit tense."   
  
He grinned back, and we made our way out together, to get a cab. Damn friends, I hissed to myself. My heart was beating too fast - I was stupidly nervous. Why? It was only a club, after all. I'd done plenty of them over the years, hadn't I? _Yeah_ , my memories prodded me. _You certainly did that. Reckon you must be missing all that 'fun' nowadays, mustn't you?_   
  
Not a bit, I replied to myself, a little smugly. I'm back in control of my life now. And _that_ is why I'm the better man I am today!   
  
*   
  
Christ, it was hot in that club! And dark, and loud, and I refused to believe I was getting old or something - just out of practice, I guess. Dinner had been pleasant, and now the lights were down and the music was at full volume. Quatre left the table and danced, from the moment my coffee arrived; a whirling, graceful strip of whipping hair and sleek clothing. Plenty of eyes followed his path into the middle of the sunken dance floor; his sensual gyrations; the smile of concentrated joy on his flushing face. Quatre Winner came from a family that had rarely been out of the headlines in one place or another. But he himself was no mouse - he sought attention like a moth to the proverbial flame. He'd always stood out from the crowd, and since he got older and bolder, I could see that he revelled in it. A small core of fans followed him from club to club every weekend. He had free membership wherever he chose, 'cos he certainly attracted others in his wake. He'd been on the list for the Invitation-only opening of this club, and it looked like he'd work his usual magic here as well.   
  
"He looks good too, eh?" I bawled into Trowa's ear. He smelled of cologne and the exotic tang of salad dressing - damn man ate little enough on his vegetarian kick. He didn't turn to look at me, but I saw his smile. His eyes were glued to Quatre.   
  
"Damn good," he mouthed back. "Damn good enough to eat..."   
  
Then he did turn to me, and stared at me in that direct way he has. "Sorry if I was out of line, earlier - but you know I was only joking, don't you?"   
  
I was always unbalanced when he got serious. "Yeah - of course," I managed to grin back. We were virtually lip-reading over the throbbing beat of the music. My chair was buffeted by people struggling past the tables to get dancing, or to the bar.   
  
"But I wasn't lying, Duo. You look great tonight. I can't believe you're not hit on all the time. And you need a partner. You need _something_..."   
  
Many a true word spoken in jest, I thought. I thought again what good friends they were. They just didn't know what I'd been through - and what I wanted to leave behind. They thought everyone wanted to be like them.   
  
"Only spares here seem to be guys!" I laughed back. There was, indeed, a surplus of guys, though it wasn't an overtly gay club.   
  
"So?" smiled Trowa. The music beat was changing, slowing down. I saw his attention slipping away, waiting to meet Quatre if he returned to our table. But he turned back and caught my own eyes wandering. "Is that a problem?"   
  
I stared back. It was the bluntest question he'd ever asked, concerning my love life. I'd never discussed it with either of them, since I left school. They knew I was OK with them living together. Obviously I knew that they were lovers. Their friends visited, straight and gay; sometimes I joined in the occasion, sometimes I withdrew gladly. It was nothing to do with anyone's sexuality. Just my moods.   
  
"Maybe not," I offered him, reluctantly.   
  
But he was relentless tonight. In a very different way from Quatre - in a far more assertive way, I must say. I was caught off-guard. "I've never seen you date, Duo, not since you came back. You never hook up with anyone while we're out. You rarely go out on your own for any length of time. But you're a good-looking man. I mean - I'm not trying to drag you into the TQ connubial bliss club, y'know?" I smiled back at him, warily. "But you always loved attention."   
  
"You mean sex?" I grinned lightly at him.   
  
He refused to be drawn. "Not just that. You were lively - tactile. You're still generous with yourself, as a friend. So you need some kind of intimacy for yourself, don't you?"   
  
"Nah..." I replied. Stop that damn music - bring Q back to the table! I needed to distract my well-meaning friend. And soon.   
  
"I know there was some trouble at school - when you dropped out..."   
  
I glared at him. Nothing had been made public - there was _no way_ he could know...   
  
He shook his head slightly, accepting I wouldn't talk about it. I never had. The two of them had continued to be my friends, even when I left town. They never asked details; never pressed me to tell them what had happened to turn my life into shit. They went on to college; on to jobs and the beginnings of adulthood. Like I should have done. They had no idea what I went on to. I called, of course I did - we talked now 'n then. But I wasn't good on the phone, and I never wrote. I didn't like to tell them where I was; what I was doing. Ashamed, probably. Our lives became less and less comparable.   
  
They never complained; they never reported back to the children's home that I was still in contact with them. Just chatted to me when I did call - and then when that started to be less and less frequent, they always told me I could come to either of them, when I needed to. They really were exceptional guys. Still are!   
  
"Yeah, OK, Duo. I know - that's past. And I know you avoid questions about your time away, and I respect that. But maybe that's when you met 'em, eh?"   
  
"What? Who are you talking about?" My attention was slipping - I was wondering where the nearest cab rank was.   
  
"The person you left behind. I think that must be it. Someone you were close to, while you were away last year. And something went wrong. So now you're avoiding the memories -"   
  
"Leave it, Trowa," I growled. "You're wrong."   
  
"I don't think so," he continued. There was a cast to his deep green eyes that made me nervous. He was moving on to dangerous ground. Dangerous for me.   
  
"It's not right to try to forget it all. Especially if it was something good in your life... You shouldn't be afraid to take people in; to build friendship. To care. Why shouldn't they be part of your life anymore? Was it a girl? A guy -?"   
  
I yelled at him. The heat had risen up through my body, and raged at me, bringing me almost to my feet.   
  
"There's no-one! He's dead! He's _dead_ , OK?"   
  
Thank God the music had started up again at its worst, or Security would've been on their way over. My voice was loud and harsh, and my angry, pained face was forced up against Trowa's shocked one.   
  
We stared at each other, appalled at how things had slipped out of control.   
  
"Trow...It wasn't what you think, y'know?" I could hear the break in my voice even as I fought to control it. "It was just something...just someone I thought a hell of a lot of..."   
  
"OK..." he murmured, a strong hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, Duo. Didn't mean to pry. To upset you."   
  
I tried to shake the moment off. But I felt suddenly withdrawn from everything around me; a bubble of lonely misery and fear, deep in the heart of the dark, busy, noisy, sociable club. I was scared again; I was crouched on a sidewalk, miles from here, crouched over a crumpled, bleeding body. A scene that looked like some cheap, corny movie. And where it looked like I was crying...   
  
It had, indeed, been while I was away. While I was throwing caution to the winds, and embracing a much wilder, independent _Me_. There had been a guy; I _had_ been close to him. But it was true, what I told Trowa - I hadn't been soft on him, or anything. I'd learned my lesson on that, some years before. It was just a - I dunno - a friendship, right?   
  
Wufei was older - he was properly educated. A great guy. Always reasonable - always fair, even when I was at my most aggressive. Because at that time, I was gradually, destructively, spiralling away with my dangerous 'independence', and he stalled me for a while. He was helping me out. Helping me find a way back to a more sensible path before I blew myself out completely. He had a place, and a job, and respect.   
  
But all that stuff - it didn't save him from being knifed in a gutter outside his apartment block, did it? Just for a lousy wallet and an old watch. Whereas Duo Maxwell - the guy with nothing but an old vest and jeans and a qualification in street smarts - fought back and broke the mugger's wrist before he ran off. I survived.   
  
I never heard that they caught the bastard who did it. What kind of _fair_ is that?   
  
It wasn't long after that I stopped the drinking and sex and clubbing, and the abuse of whatever other substances were on offer. And every other sordid thing I was involved in, but we won't go into that now. All by myself - but because I knew Wufei would have wanted it. Sort of in his memory. Then I came back to find the others, and a different life...   
  
The throb of the club beat was seeping back into me. My eyes focused back on Trowa, and his concerned look. I'd never told him anything about it. Why would he be interested? It was all behind me now.   
  
"I'll get another beer, OK?" I mumbled. "Q's on his way back and he looks like he could use one."   
  
*   
  
Q came back to the table, all limbs and sweat, and batting off a crowd of clamouring, less-than-hopeful hands at his ass. He slid into the seat beside T, and their existence shrank back to each other.   
  
I started to drink after that. The first beers tasted OK. The next ones started to pall, but I didn't ease up. I switched to vodka - it had been my poison of choice at one stage. When I nodded my head to the barmaid's next offer, I felt a residual sway in my body. Damn, I was out of practice!   
  
It was while I stood again at the bar, a little wavy round the edges, but steady enough to be thinking about getting the hell out of the place to go and sleep it off - it was then that I saw him. Just a guy, really. A guy who stood at the other end of the bar, nursing a clear drink, leant casually on the shiny, beer-stained surface.   
  
He was tall as me, dressed in similar black jeans, though they were slung lower on his narrow hips, and clutched most suggestively round a compact little ass. His shirt was long-sleeved, and buttoned halfway up his chest. It was pale, perhaps a cream or a gold colour - I couldn't decide under the dim lighting. I could see the shadows of a well-developed chest under the fabric; wide shoulders, and a skin that was darker than mine.   
  
I didn't usually ogle guys y'know. I didn't go ogling anyone, actually. I always kept my head down, and my needs tight inside. Had done, since...well, for a long time. It was the safest strategy I could think of.   
  
But I gazed at _him_. I was like some kinda cartoon character - I reckon my mouth may have fallen a little open. People came back and forth to the bar, and I seemed to see him through them. I looked up into his face and it was striking. _Way_ beyond striking. He was dark there as well, eyes shadowed by heavy lids; a long, straight nose. Thick, night-black hair, cut almost raggedly on his head, falling over his forehead in unruly spikes. As I watched, he sipped at his drink. Slowly; deliberately - like he wasn't particularly thirsty. His mouth wasn't large, but the lips were thick and richer than I'd have thought from his slightly Asian look. They were glistening with the liquid.   
  
I knew - of course - what the feeling was, deep in the pit of my stomach. 'Praps a little lower. Long time, no see, I thought, wryly. But I was just as sure that it wasn't gonna get a hold of me.   
  
And then he looked up, and straight at me.   
  
I tried to think it was a trick of the light - he couldn't possibly have known I was staring, we were too far enough apart for that. But I didn't move my eyes away, and so he saw me. His eyes shone clearly across the smoky fog of the bar. Wide - deep coloured. Reflecting all the lights and colours of the room, and absorbing them at the same time. They were hypnotic. Things stood like that, for all of ten seconds. Then he lifted the glass very gently, as if he saluted me. And his mouth twisted into a slow, arrogant smile.   
  
No, I thought.   
  
His head inclined a little, as if he were calling me over. There was no way we could have heard any words over that din.   
  
No, I thought again.   
  
And I pushed carefully past a group of partygoers beside me, shouting and laughing as they handed out bottled beers amongst them, and I walked over to him.   
  
I stopped close enough to him so that no-one else would force their way between us. But far enough apart that we wouldn't touch accidentally. His eyes were still on me, but he'd put the glass back down on the bar. I don't know whether it was the vodka in me, or the astonishing glow there was to those fabulous eyes. But there was an aura that sparked off him like electricity. I didn't even have to touch him to feel it. I felt the current through my whole body.   
  
I guess he looked a little like him. Like Wufei; it was the black hair - the Eastern look. 'Praps that was why I'd been drawn to him.   
  
But that wasn't enough to explain the thrill inside me.   
  
What was the matter with me? Shouldn't I say something to him? Try to explain my rudeness?   
  
I said nothing at all - my throat was closed to all traffic. My eyes devoured him - my nerves reacted with a terrifying, erotic fervour.   
  
He was watching the expressions on my face; the heavy lids slid down over his dark-bright eyes and back up again. It was as if he'd taken full measure of me in that second.   
  
And then he leaned into me and I smelt him - the slight sweat and the damp skin of his lips; the tantalising trail of an unknown perfume.   
  
"I know somewhere we can go. Wanna come with me?" he murmured.   
  
*   
  
God, _did_ I!   
  
I followed him, never more than a foot behind him, as he cut his way through the bodies on the dance floor and out towards a back exit that I didn't even know was there. We still hadn't touched in any way. I was like a lamb to the slaughter; and I knew, in my heart, that's what I was. I told myself we were gonna find a quiet room, and talk; we were gonna share a joint, or another drink. Couldn't do any of that over the noise and scramble in this place. And then I'd get that cab, and go home and make strong coffee, and forget the whole damn evening...   
  
The door was flush into the wall, and wouldn't have been noticed by most of the clients there tonight. There were no signs on it. But he pushed on it like it was familiar - like he knew it'd be open. It slid outwards easily, and I followed him through. There was a heavy clunk as it closed behind us, and the sudden drop in noise was almost a shock. I could only hear the beat now - the regular, throbbing bass. And I realised I was outside the building - out in the night air.   
  
And then my back was slammed back against cold bricks, and his mouth was on mine. Not a word, not a request - just hard, wet lips, crushing mine, and a fierce tongue pushing for admittance. My palms were flat against the wall, but he didn't try to hold me there. It was enough that his mouth claimed me - that I surrendered immediately and willingly and damn, _damn_ eagerly!   
  
Look - I've always had a healthy libido. At least, that's what I'd call it, if I felt I should be kind to myself. I dislike categorising at the best of times, and I don't know whether I'd call myself either gay or straight. There'd been a complex and varied sexual history, following me around until I moved back here - I've had girls and guys. But it depends on the person, doesn't it, not the gender. I can get excited by both - I can respond to both. Let's face it, I _have_ done...   
  
Drop it! I thought. Those times have gone...   
  
But I could genuinely say that I'd never felt this rush of consuming, desperate _lust_ before! The terrible need - the solely physical reaction that made my head spin and my heart tighten in my chest. A deep desire to touch - to grab - to _possess_.   
  
We never spoke, though I'd have found it difficult with his probing tongue inside my mouth. Even though I'd opened my lips almost faster than he'd asked of me, and sucked him in, rolling my own tongue against him, tasting the hot skin, and the taint of alcohol still warm in his mouth. He was gasping, and I knew damn well that _I_ was. We were out in a narrow side street, almost an alley, with the blank back views of tall buildings around us - it was quiet, except for the beat from the club behind our bodies, and the occasional wailing siren in the traffic far away. The night wind had dropped, and the weather was dry; I remember being fleetingly thankful for that. I knew he wasn't going to take us back inside for a time yet.   
  
His hands touched me then, heavy on my shoulders like a blow, pressing me down the wall. I struggled for a minute, not sure what we were doing here - my hands went to his upper arms, restraining him. I tried the pressure myself, seeing if he would buckle instead.   
  
Something flared in his eyes, but they were too close to me, and he was too much a stranger for me to understand it. But there was excitement there, and a challenge that I'd never had before.   
  
"Get down!" he hissed. Out here, in the fresh air, his voice reverberated in my ear. It was deep, and rich, and I felt how it matched the strength of his body. I slid, less than elegantly, down on to my ass.   
  
"You gotta name?" I gasped, struggling back up on to my knees. He'd turned around, so that it was his back against the brick wall now. He was fumbling with the zip of his pants with one hand, and grasping at my hair with the other. And I was letting him. " _Any_ name?"   
  
He glared at me, like he might tell me to go to hell. But something in my face caught him. He twisted my braid around in his hand, almost thoughtfully. And then he smiled. "Heero."   
  
Strange name, I thought. Fucking strange everything...   
  
"I'm Duo -" I mumbled, but he wasn't listening. He was tangling his fingers in my hair, savouring the feeling of the length and the thickness. I know it fascinates a lot of people. And then the smile had gone, and he was tugging my head forward towards his groin and the open zip. I could see the bulge under his boxers. I could feel the heat on my cheeks, even before I reached my hand up and slid it inside. He hissed, and his hips jerked once.   
  
Not a word, still. No please. No thank you. But I grasped the thick shaft as if it were the Holy Grail, peeled it out of its thin, silk prison, and took it fully into my mouth.   
  
He pressed himself back hard against the wall, and groaned. I leant into his legs, holding the creased cloth of his pants, and began to move my mouth up and down, dragging my tongue along with it. The smell of his balls was musky and erotic - the dark, rough pubic hairs tickled at my nose. And his cock was thick and harsh in my mouth, and tasted like nothing on earth. I'd forgotten how good a cock could taste - the sharp tang of living flesh on your tongue; the wrinkles of skin smoothing under your lips, stretching over an engorging organ. I could feel the pulse of the vein along the side of him - could taste the droplets of pre-cum as they oozed out of the slit for me to suck up. His hips were straining against my hands, thrusting into my mouth in a parody of fucking. His fingers gripped tightly against my scalp, though he had no need to force me up and down - I was sucking for my own delight as well.   
  
I hadn't done this for _so long_... I tried very hard to pace myself; to control the excitement that was racing around me, making my hands clench too tightly at his muscular thighs, my mouth gobble hungrily at his cock. But he didn't complain, and I think that he liked it that way. Our combined breaths were short and rasping, and there were slight clouds from his mouth as he panted his heat into the cool night air. My head bobbed back and forth, making soft, suckling noises, and his grunts accompanied me. I wished to God I could get a hand down into my own pants and relieve the ache I was suffering there.   
  
I don't know how long it took - I was lost in the rhythm of my devouring, and it seemed like I'd been joined to his groin for ever. My mouth had always been filled with this flesh, always been bruised against his taut skin as it kissed its way deeper and harder. But I felt the ripple, deep in his balls - the tightening skin against my chin; the catch of his breath as it announced the imminent end. But even as my heart raced at the thought of swallowing him, and my lips tightened on him, he yanked my head back, sliding me off him.   
  
Panting, I licked my swollen, frustrated lips. Lifted my head to stare up at him. He held me tight, but his eyes were half closed. His chest heaved with the desire - his thighs were shaking slightly under my touch. His cock jutted out into my face; red, damp with my saliva, and damn angry at being denied completion. He looked superb; a vibrant, aching statue of a man, and I wanted so much more of him that I felt a physical hurt.   
  
"You wanna take me?" My voice was breathy - I felt like I hadn't used it for weeks. I knew what I was asking. It was all part of the strange surrender issue that had consumed me this night - I was contemplating letting some near stranger bury his cock in my ass, and I seemed to accept it as OK. Welcomed it, in fact.   
  
"Yes..." he murmured. His tongue slipped out and moistened his lips. He bent his head forward and gazed back down at me. " _Yes_!"   
  
I stood, my knees a bit shaky themselves. He watched me as I slipped open the button of my pants, and unzipped myself. I was standing here in some open alleyway, and I was gonna strip myself for this guy to fuck me. Anyone might come out after us!   
  
Did I think that was terrifying - or exciting?   
  
I slid the pants down my legs, and flipped the boxers down after them. They caught slightly on my own aching erection. I was damp at the tip - swollen and desperate to be free of fabric. I kicked the clothes away to the side. I stood in my crumpled shirt and boots, and nothing else. The night air rustled gently against the shirt tails - blew soft trails into my hairs and under my balls. I wondered when I had last done it in the open air - I couldn't remember anything.   
  
Heero was breathing very heavily. He stared at my body, greedily. "Turn around," he rasped.   
  
I did, and felt him move up behind me. His cock nudged at my ass cheeks - caught gently on the silk of my shirt. It was a shaft of pure heat. His hands came back to my shoulders, and he pressed me forwards so that I threw out my hands to protect myself. I was forced up against the wall, my back a little bent. His hand slipped down to my buttocks, touching me there, possessively. He shifted a leg in between my knees, and spread my legs further apart.   
  
My cock grazed unhappily against the brickwork - this was gonna hurt one way or another.   
  
"You got a condom?" I snapped. I was scared, I guess. And horny. And unused to this whole thing - it had been such a long time since anyone had taken me.   
  
To give him his due, this whole thing seemed to have taken him as much by surprise as it had me. I heard him curse, and his hand stopped its smoothing of my buttocks; its creeping around inside the crack, nuzzling at my hole.   
  
"It's OK, I have," I sighed. I couldn't believe I was saying this! "In the back pocket of my jeans." I felt him bend down and scrabble round in my discarded clothing. I wondered if the damn thing would be out of date by now - some old acquaintance had slipped it to me one Saturday night, just for a laugh. I never intended to use it - I wasn't looking for that sorta entertainment. I heard Heero give a small, tight laugh - he'd obviously found the sachet of lube as well. Well, now he'd know what sorta slut he was dealing with, wouldn't he? I knew I was red with embarrassment - but I also knew we didn't have any kinda conversation going where I could explain that I wasn't like that, really.   
  
And, anyway - looked like I _was_ , didn't it?   
  
"Now..." I hissed. "Do it now, Heero - don't make me wait -"   
  
My cock hung down between my legs, and I reached down with immense relief, to clasp it. Then Heero was there, quite suddenly, leaning on to my back, his breath steamy at the nape of my neck. I felt the open zip of his pants snagging at my thighs - his cock teasing between my cheeks. My hole was aching - it was flexing itself in desperation, trying to tempt him in. I was dead scared that he'd never get in - I had to be tight as a gnat's ass from lack of attention, I was sure. But from the soft, slippery touch of his cock on my chilled skin, I knew he was protected and lubed up. And then - oh my God! - there was a similarly slick finger pressing gently into me; probing; stretching...   
  
Another thing I'd forgotten - the blessed, unmistakable delight of being fingered! My back arched, and I whimpered. His other hand twisted itself tightly into my braid and held my head back, sharply. The fingers slid quickly out of me. My legs opened wider - my ass presented itself into his hand. I wanted him so badly I thought I was gonna spontaneously combust.   
  
He let out a deep, guttural sound in my ear, and he thrust into me. I yelped, and jerked with the shock, but his arm snaked round my waist and held me to him. He pulled back a little, then thrust again - and my body moved with him, pressing me further into the wall so that my head was flat against it. He straightened again, pulling me slightly back, and started to fuck me with a steady, strong rhythm. I wondered, with some amazement, how long he could last - he'd been ready to come only minutes ago. But there was no sound from him, or shiver in his body, that made me think he wasn't in total control.   
  
"Me - mine too -" I gasped, not really knowing what the hell I was talking about. But he obviously did, because his hand left my waist and came down to my groin. He batted my flailing hand aside - I was doing a pathetic job of pleasing myself, because my concentration was far, _far_ away - and he fisted around me with perfect precision.   
  
I groaned then - loudly, and demandingly, and I began to thrust into his hand, just as he thrust into me. I was dripping with pre-cum, and I guess his hand was still slimy with lube; whatever the reason, his fingers slipped firmly and swiftly up and down my cock, and teased the excitement further and further up from the coil of lust deep in my groin. _Heero_ may have had control of his bodily responses, but I was hurtling over the edge some time very soon! We rocked together, nothing to be heard but the wet slap of sweaty flesh against even more sweaty flesh; the harsh grunt of a body slamming against another; the panting of two people concentrating on what must be surely one of the most purely physically satisfying feelings ever discovered...   
  
To my shame, I climaxed a few seconds later. Christ, I'd never felt so good in my life, and for so many months I'd had no practice in controlling the suspense. My body wanted it, and it wanted it _now_! I gulped and sobbed, and pumped out the hot, creamy seed all over his hand, watching it through ecstasy-blurred eyes as strings of it sprayed on to the rough ground at my feet.   
  
He let out another of the guttural moans - guess my muscles were spasming, no longer under any control of mine. But even as I started to relax and slump under his body, he clutched me back around the waist and started to speed up his penetration. I could hear his heart hammering against my back - his breath shuddering. The shiver I'd been waiting to feel in him started to run down his torso and into his legs. I could feel it at my hips; feel his legs crushing against mine, his groin trying to sink even deeper into me. It felt damn good that I was doing this to him!   
  
" _Shit_...!" he hissed out into my hair, so that I barely heard it. His fingers pinched at my skin, he bucked a coupla times more against me, and then I felt the extra swelling up inside me, and the sudden increase in heat, that meant he was coming.   
  
In the distance, a car horn sounded; some motorist angry at having to wait for a red light. And then the silence fell again around us.   
  
*   
  
Heero groaned softly above me, and straightened himself up. He pulled cautiously out of me, ripping off the soggy condom and throwing it to the ground. I heard the soft plop as it fell on to the cracked concrete.   
  
I realised how little our skin had touched, though my ass and legs were bare and his pants were still wide open at his groin. I struggled to regain my breath. Craning back to look over my shoulder, I saw his cock hanging out, falling limp now against the cloth; shining in the semi-darkness with a sheen that was made up of damp latex, lube and the juices from out of me. There'd been virtually no other contact between us, besides the sex.   
  
I heard the sound of the zip - saw him cramming himself back into his pants and underwear.   
  
Great, I thought. That's that, then. Talk about a soulless fuck.   
  
I searched my mind for some witty responses; some get-out lines, long forgotten in my experience. I creaked my way upright as well, still leaning on the wall for much-needed support. My shirt fell softly over my bare groin, but I still winced at its touch. Anyway, what the hell was I complaining about? It had been the hottest, fiercest, most exciting fuck I'd ever experienced!   
  
Yeah - I'm a guy who struggles with relationships at the best of times.   
  
I bent and grabbed at my clothes; tucked one of my legs in to start dressing myself. Heero watched me tug up my pants; seeking to fasten myself in again. I hissed at the tight style of the jeans - Christ, I thought ,almost hysterically, if I'd known I was gonna need to pull 'em on and off quickly, I'd have chosen the sweats instead... He caught my arm as I staggered a little. I bit back my thanks. Though, Christ, he'd earned 'em! In many ways.   
  
"I gotta go..." I stumbled out the words. Yeah - very witty! He was staring at me. He was all zipped up, all done and dusted, and calm as anything. Maybe there was something still lingering... a breath heavier than before; a flush on his smooth skin. He wasn't rushing off, after all. Hadn't dropped me a coupla bills, payment for services rendered...   
  
No, I was a hypocrite - I was creating some kinda justification for something that had been nothing but lust; nothing but a fast and furious race towards mutual satisfaction.   
  
"OK Duo," he said, softly. That deep, steady voice. 'Praps he _had_ been listening when I told him my name. He shrugged slightly - the arrogant smile was back, twisting its cynicism across his good-looking face. "There's a catch at the top of the door if you need to go back inside. See ya."   
  
He turned away from me, and he walked back down the alley towards the main streets.   
  
I leaned back against the wall for another fifteen minutes or so, watching my breath on the increasingly chilly night air, and wishing fervently that I was still smoking. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"Duo, you're not sleeping well, are you?"   
  
I lifted an eye over the top of my book. OK, so I wasn't reading much of it. These one-man-against-the-world thrillers are so bizarre, aren't they?   
  
"Sorry, Trow - am I disturbing you at night, or something? I only get up for a drink, or a read..."   
  
Trowa was staring at me. "Or to cook something - or to have a shower -"   
  
I flushed. So 'praps I had been a disturbance this week. But I had things on my mind. Things other places, as well. Things that kept me awake, night after night...   
  
Trowa threw himself down in the armchair opposite me. "That's not a problem. I sleep little anyway. And Q expends all his energy during the day - he'd sleep through the Second Coming, I think. But it's you I'm worried about."   
  
"No need," I said, a little hastily. "But sorry if you're losing sleep over me. I'll stop roaming about at night, I guess. You need your rest to keep up with this new job, I know."   
  
He was a bright spark, T. He was running the damn department at this new place, now, some kinda aerospace electronics. I guess the reason we'd worked so well as a friendship at school had been the mix of our three personalities. Trowa'd always been the brains - Q was the socialite. I was - well, what was !? I'd been one of those guys they all said had great promise. I'd _do_ something with my life. S'long as I could concentrate long enough to decide what that would be. But at that time, I didn't seem to have much control over that aspect of my behaviour. Gradually, because of my arrogant attitude, I alienated each and every teacher, even my original supporters.   
  
Even Rik.   
  
And there's the story - the real story of why I really left school. I'd never told T or Q anything much about it. We'd never shared classes, so our friendship operated mainly on how we were outside school - I never enjoyed talking about 'academia' at the best of times, so we easily avoided specifics. There was plenty else to be talking and joking about, and I enjoyed hearing about their lives far more than my own. And anyway, at the horrific end, it had all been hushed up. So they never knew exactly what had gone on inside the school walls.   
  
Why hadn't I told my friends? It's no proper defence really, but you gotta realise what I was like, then. I was pretty high maintenance. And I always fought to go my own way - even when no-one was challenging me. I always took the difficult route; always expected struggle and opposition.   
  
I despise myself when I look back.   
  
Rik was only a student teacher, for God's sake. He was only with us for a month or so. He looked the same age as me - we were of a similar build and height. But he latched on to me at once, the light of salvation in his eyes. I couldn't understand his interest in me - I was pretty sure by then that I'd pissed my potential away, and I was just biding my time 'til I jumped ship completely. He tried plenty of times to get me interested - to get me to connect with a future. To find what I enjoyed; what I was good at. To make some constructive decisions as to what I wanted to do. He convinced me, as well, a coupla times - that I wasn't a complete moron. That I could understand mathematical principles; that I could carry out a successful science experiment; that I could write something more lyrical than my name on the toilet wall.   
  
But I guess I dismissed him, in a way. He was only a student; I compared him to me. I thought he was a fool to be dragging himself down in a long and difficult study - committing himself when he was still so young himself, to trying to change and control a bunch of young adults like me.   
  
And then I thought I found out the real reason for his interest in me.   
  
Christ, I was so damn smug!   
  
It was the way I was, back then. I was full of hormones and self-importance. I mean, I knew I was highly sexual from an early age. I liked the thrill of finding how my body worked - liked to see the games we were all staring to play with each other; the drama; the physical excitement. And I found I was particularly adept at all of those. Enthusiastic, too. Didn't have much idea of morality, or inhibition, or restraint. Didn't know then that it could cause more trouble than it was worth.   
  
Trowa and Quatre would've helped me, I'm sure. If I'd asked for it. I think they may have been aware of their sexuality, and their affection for each other, even then. I know that when I went cruising, they rarely joined me. But we were still mates.   
  
Despite my eagerness for sex, I wasn't that interested in the girls. I'm ashamed to remember, but I did lose my virginity - with some discomfort - to the blonde, soft-skinned sister of one of the senior guys, round the back of the movie house one Saturday night. I fumbled like nobody's business, trying to find the places everything went - for a horrific moment I thought I wasn't gonna get it up - and then she gave me a helping hand, and shoved it in. She gave lots of encouraging hiccups, while I jerked back and forth on the cold pavement, but it was fairly brief and messy. I can't say if either of us really enjoyed it much. It just had to be done. Then I zipped up, bought her a soda as some kinda tacitly understood payment, and took her home. I never saw her again, cos they both moved away.   
  
There were many others. It was like that with most of 'em.   
  
I thought about guys, as well. _That_ I kept to myself. The other kids never saw anything but black and white. Straight - gay. You like girls - or you're a fag. But those were the times that I knew I was different from them, too. That I still hadn't found my place. I jerked off to pictures of boys, as well. I shocked myself, and of course I had no chance to try it in real life. I don't know what might have happened to me.   
  
Then I got caught in a solitary detention with Rik invigilating, and he touched me. He didn't mean it, I know, not like that, anyway. But I knew enough about my body by then to know that when he put his hand on my shoulder to help me with a math problem, it was more than a platonic touch. And I knew I could respond to that. The feeling excited me, much more than before, with the cold, careless girls.   
  
He was shocked, himself. He told me later that he'd never really examined his sexuality - just thought it was late in developing. That he loved his job, and didn't need companions. But that when he touched me - when he spent time with me - he realised where his desires lay. He would never have taken it any further, of course not!   
  
I was a bastard to him. I shoulda treated him with the same maturity and respect that he showed me. I wasn't looking for a relationship - I wasn't looking for a sexual mentor or friend, even though I was confused, and I had no-one then that I could discuss it all with. I shoulda kept his secret and responded by trying to be the student he wanted me to be.   
  
Instead, I kissed him. I kissed him with a hot, fierce tongue; my skills to date were fairly limited, but they were aggressively knowing. He was too stunned to pull away. His lips opened and I thrust in and out of his mouth, tasting the difference that was a man; I grabbed his arms and felt muscles there, instead of soft, yielding female flesh. I slid a hand to his crotch, and felt the thrilling bulge there that I knew was a cock like mine. No warm, mysterious valley - just a hard, throbbing mountain. And I knew what to do with one of those.   
  
I sucked him off that day; I knelt in front of my astounded and petrified teacher, and I opened his pants, and pulled out his erect cock. I was gonna jerk him off, but I felt my mouth water, and so I sucked him into my mouth instead. I was fascinated to know what it'd be like to give a blowjob, not just to receive. He came very quickly, before I could decide whether I swallowed cum or not - so I did. Then he slipped his hand into my pants, and guiltily jerked me off in return. I came very quickly, too - a bloody sight faster than I had behind the movie house with that girl. And it was far more satisfying.   
  
Jeez... I know _now_ that he was interested in me firstly as a teacher. Then, 'praps, as a partner. But back then - well, then I just thought he was like me; a frustrated guy who wanted to get into someone's pants. 'Praps he was that, as well. He was young, himself. And I didn't see why we shouldn't just get on with it, if we both wanted to. It was damn exciting - partly because it was such a new thing for me. Partly because of the risk, as well, I 'spose. I knew I was barely old enough to be considering such a thing with a teacher, especially a student one. He tried to tell me the same thing himself, lots of times. Then I'd unzip his pants, and ask him to show me more of how guys had sex, and we'd both be lost.   
  
But even as I excited him, I confused him - I distressed him. I think I broke him.   
  
There was one helluva fuss when we got caught fucking in the gym. I was laid over the horse, face down, pants round my ankles. His cock was clenched tightly up inside my ass, but he was moving quite gingerly - we were only just learning how to balance the pain/pleasure thing. The lights went on suddenly, and our hot, lusty world shrank to a pinpoint of horror at the sight of the caretaker. I remember nothing more except for an angry, vengeful thought that at least I'd come all over the horse before they caught me - let 'em get _that_ stain out of the leather!   
  
Rik had to leave his job. I saw him briefly, when he came to say goodbye to the whole class. Some of 'em were shocked. Some just sniggered. I beat up on those ones, later.   
  
But he didn't try to see me alone. I thought it was 'cos he'd been ordered not to. But I guess he might just have wanted to get away. From me.   
  
I've no excuse for my disgraceful behaviour, except that I was very young, and very, very, fucking stupid. I deserved the punishment - not him.   
  
The next day I left school myself, just minutes before they expelled me, I guess. I had no parents to take the rap - just the elderly, confused guardian from the children's home. I expect he was glad that I took off. One less rebel to worry about. No-one came after me that I know of. Why would they? I tried to get a forwarding address for Rik, phoning up with a voice that I thought I disguised pretty well. But they told me he'd gone out of state, and then there was noise in the background like other people's questions, and I put the phone down.   
  
And that's when I thought I'd strike out on my own and see a coupla slices of _real_ life.   
  
  
*   
  
  
Trowa wasn't entirely right - I mean, I did sleep. But it was so restless, that each morning I felt as if I'd had no rest at all. Quatre usually teases me 'cos I'm so difficult to wake in the morning - I'm notorious for sleeping like the dead, just like him. If there was a fire, he says...   
  
I'd burn, I reply.   
  
But not now. I'd been disturbed by Saturday's little escapade, and it had nagged at me every damn night since then. I worked, regardless; I'd cooked a coupla suppers. I thought about changing my job again. I was struggling through that new thriller. I wandered round the town at lunch times, bought another silk shirt, and might have been discovered thumbing through packs of new underwear. Decent, but way too expensive stuff.   
  
I was burning from all sorts of other reasons.   
  
  
*   
  
  
When it got to Saturday again, and when I said I was going out, they both looked surprised. They were staying in, lighting candles and cooking sexy food, or something like that - I knew they'd appreciate me being out, though they'd never ask. Quatre flashed a look at Trowa, that spoke volumes to those who had the language. But I really didn't want to have to explain myself. I just wanted to get out of the apartment - just wanted some space, to think about it all. To try to calm my restlessness. To shake off the smell of Heero that still lingered in my nostrils - the abrasion on my fingertips from clutching at the rough bricks of that alley wall. To relive the memory of him behind me; the press of his body; panting; gasping; thrusting hard against my back. Deep up inside me; filling me; ripping through me. The strange, almost cruel hand around my cock, tugging me with him.   
  
I was shocked at myself. I couldn't seem to get things in perspective. All I could think about was him.   
  
I went to the club.   
  
  
*   
  
  
He didn't appear until after midnight. The dance floor had got darker and hotter and noisier, and I'd cursed my obsession at regular intervals ever since I arrived. I was drinking too much again; I'd been leant against the bar for hours, like some lazy whore. The number of approaches I'd repulsed was five so far; two girls, three guys. I'd started out civil, then got progressively sharper. When the next person approached with the same hopeful leer and what he thought was a seductive line, I glared so hard that I saw him pale. He veered quickly off in another direction.   
  
And then Heero was there beside me, long-fingered hand curled round a drink, as before. He had the same pants on, I think. But a darker shirt, some kinda green shine to it. There was a slim silver chain round his neck; a tiny silver stud in his ear. I never saw where he materialised from. He nodded at the retreating clubber.   
  
"Not your type, Duo?"   
  
He remembers my name, I thought. Something twisted painfully inside me. Guess I thought he'd spent the last week fucking so many strange boys in the alley that he'd never remember just one...   
  
"Dunno," I mumbled. I was having trouble making my tongue work - just the sight of him did things to me that I'd hoped were long buried. I dropped my eyes away from his. "Been a long time since I even thought about it..."   
  
"A long time?" he replied, softly. That damn voice... "Since last Saturday?"   
  
I know I flushed. I prayed that the lights were low enough that it wouldn't look too obvious. "Yeah, well, last Saturday was rather - let's say - unusual for me. Can't say it's on my regular weekend list of Things to Do."   
  
I felt him staring at me. I raised my head to meet his eyes. They flashed, like fireworks; like warning flares. I couldn't make out the expression there, though his lips still creased round a self-confident smile. He was leaning slightly towards me again, listening to me.   
  
He pursed his lips, like he was thinking what to say. I couldn't imagine this guy ever had an unforced speechless moment.   
  
"You come here often?" I blurted out.   
  
He didn't laugh. So many others would have, eh? And after I'd been so rude to those others tonight, coming up to me with far more original chat-up lines.   
  
"Maybe not." He shrugged very slightly. His body moved like the last gentle rush of a wave on the beach. "But perhaps I will now. For you."   
  
Oh, _what_ -?! But, funnily enough, I didn't laugh, either. Somehow, it seemed neither coy nor corny when he said it. His voice was low and husky. His eyes burned with a lust that I guess was reflected in my own. There was that nagging, insidious smile at the corners of his mouth - his lush, greedy mouth. The mouth that I wanted to be touching, very, very soon.   
  
I despaired of my drinking habits. But I knew that this feeling wasn't because I was drunk.   
  
He put his drink down on the bar, beside mine. He was smiling at my confusion.   
  
"You want some more?"   
  
I knew he didn't mean the vodka. "Yeah."   
  
He knew I knew. Oh, whatever...   
  
"But -?"   
  
I stared at him. "But what?"   
  
He shrugged again. The fabric of his shirt whispered over his shoulders. Even over the deep, throbbing beat of the latest dance number, I imagined that I heard it. The chain glinted in the hollow of his throat. My jeans were unbearably tight around the crotch.   
  
God, what state was I in?   
  
"So, Duo, what's the problem?"   
  
"Problem...?" I stared at him and he stared right on back. He was reading something in my expression that I didn't know was there. Something that was holding me back from him. From the pleasure he was offering me. I thought it annoyed him. I thought he might just turn round and leave. Damn, I didn't want that to happen! But I didn't know what I was getting in to if he stayed.   
  
"Who are you, Heero?"   
  
He shook his head, impatiently. He looked down at his sleeve - I thought he may have been checking his watch. In the middle of the heat of the bar, I felt a chill. "Who d'you want me to be, Duo?"   
  
I was angry, suddenly. "What the hell kind of an answer is that?"   
  
He gazed at me, like he was pleased at my anger. I remembered his reaction last week, when we struggled - so very briefly - out in the alley. So perhaps he liked a little resistance... I wondered how much.   
  
"You like to talk, don't you? You're very..."   
  
"Yeah?" I hissed. "Very what?"   
  
He didn't go on. His eyes swung to my mouth, and the desire in them sucked any resistance out of me. I let out a breath that I never even knew I was holding.   
  
"Come with me, Duo," he said. Very low, very quiet; but full of promise. I may not have heard the words, because of the noise surrounding us - but I read those lips, and I shivered as his body slipped away from the bar and walked slowly past me.   
  
I turned, and followed him as before.   
  
  
*   
  
We didn't go out through the back door this time. He led me out through the restaurant and towards the cloakrooms.   
  
"You gotta place near here?" I asked. Were we destined for the alley again? Didn't the damn man have an apartment? Or even a car, for God's sake -!   
  
He didn't answer, just moved confidently through the crowds, acknowledging no-one, pausing for nothing. I thought I saw a coupla guys nod to him as he passed - another followed us with angry, hooded eyes. But I may have been mistaken. Every step was firm, his movement elegant. I'd rarely seen a guy so physically sensual, and yet so obviously comfortable with it. I mean, I'm no klutz, but I felt one, compared against him...   
  
He slipped quickly behind the counter of the cloakroom - no-one was manning it for the moment; the club was closed to new members for the night, and no-one was ready to leave yet. There was some kinda security box on the wall by the door behind, but he pressed a coupla buttons quickly, and pushed it open. He stepped in.   
  
So did I. Of course.   
  
It was a small, partitioned off room, filled with a rack of coats, and there were various bags and backpacks on the floor. There was a low shelf unit, bolted to the wall, with umbrellas stacked inside and another coupla coats across the top; a chair by the small, high window. Boxes in the corner showed that they used it for storage as well. I squeezed myself in through the door, wondering what the hell he was up to. I wondered briefly about the security control - how he came to know the code. Then I didn't have time to wonder about such relatively unexciting things.   
  
His arm came suddenly across my face, and flipped the light switch off by the door. I heard the door click shut behind us. Immediately there was no more light than the sliver under the ill-fitting door, and a dim streetlight through the window. I tripped up over some kind of bag; my knee cracked on a trashcan or something. I was struggling to regain my sight in this sudden darkness when his hand gripped my arm. I gasped, instinctively.   
  
"Can't wait -" he growled.   
  
He touched me, then. Just like he did the first time. _Christ_ , he touched me!   
  
His mouth was hot and damp on me, plundering my own mouth, tongue licking inside and probing behind my teeth. He sucked on my lips, nipping them gently; then slid his wet tongue out again, and ran it around my cheek and out to my ear. I'd not had this kind of attention for months - seemed like forever. And from Heero, it was unexpected. A few words; a hot breath - that was all I'd had so far. That, and a damn fine fucking a week ago.   
  
What sorta relationship was this turning out to be?   
  
His hands were at my waist, wrenching down my pants, boxers 'n all. He dragged them off my feet, kicked them away. I found it difficult to move, not sure if there was enough space; not knowing where I was in the room. And now I was naked from the waist down. _Again_ , I thought, a little disorientated. He was all over me - clawing at my groin, a dark, but tangible shadow, tugging my shirt out of the way, fingers sliding in between my tense thighs. He never said a word - but the attitude was hungry; greedy. I surrendered to the warm, dominant fingers in the cool air of the room, allowing him to possess me. To enfold my aching cock. To do whatever he wished with me.   
  
There was a soft moan of satisfaction, and it wasn't only mine.   
  
Then the hands were strong, up around my hips, and he hoisted me up on to the top of the shelf unit. I felt the softness of wool and cotton from the coats underneath me, a cushion for my ass. My back was hard against the cold painted surface of the storeroom wall; Heero's hot body was inches away from mine. Then his hands shifted to grasp my thighs, and he pulled them apart.   
  
My mouth was hideously dry. My exposed cock was straining to the heavens. He wrenched me further towards him, so that I dropped down a little, my back awkwardly bent, and my legs waving in the air. Wide apart; wide open for him. I knew that at this angle he'd be able to see all of me - my balls; my hole. My aching, puckering hole. I felt like a whore would feel. Whilst knowing I was doing this for free.   
  
A drop of pre-cum oozed on to my groin. Heero was suddenly further into the shadows - I couldn't see his smile; his eyes. All I was aware of, was the grip of his fingers on my inner thighs and the slight sound of his harsh breathing. He moved one hand away, and when it came back to touch me, it was covered with something cool and slippery. I felt my bones creak a little. My heart was hammering. His fingers slid into me and I gasped aloud.   
  
And then he was back in sight, eyes wide and knowing; the slightest gleam from his teeth in the darkness. He was moving his body down on me swiftly, mouth aiming for mine. I sucked hard on his tongue, eager and desperate because I knew what was coming. His chest wriggled between my open arms, his groin rubbing at mine. I could feel the nakedness of his cock, rearing out from between the folds of his open pants. It was almost unbearably exciting. The sheen of sweat on his bare chest was humming against me, now, and I grasped at his arms, to anchor myself.   
  
Guess he'd come prepared this time. Or maybe last Saturday's condom-less status had been the exception. I felt his stretching fingers finish their work, and his cock up against my entrance - it was hot and slick with latex and lube. I didn't need him to spread my legs even further, but I let him, because it was a touch from him - an intimate one. He slid his hands under me, and lifted me and my ass up off the cupboard. And he entered me like last time. _Hard_.   
  
I think I moaned. We grunted; we moved together. He was face to face with me this time, though I could barely see his expression in the dim light. But it was good to feel him flush up against me, and I clutched him as best I could. He smelled great, whereas I was sure I smelled of too much sweat and vodka. I was crushed up against the wall as he thrust into me - my legs were lifted high and I was pinned back only by his arms and the force of gravity. I folded my feet around his back, and bent into him. It was a good and exciting angle for me - a _damn_ good angle! He hit my prostate more often than not, and I had difficulty holding myself back from arching in his grasp, and probably falling flat on my back on the floor. My cock groaned between us, rubbed by his skin, and begging for release. His knees knocked against the cupboard door, and the flimsy structure groaned a protest as we rocked above it. The coats had fallen to the ground long ago; I heard the dull thud of a coupla umbrellas falling after them.   
  
" _Duo_..." It was a whisper from him that I barely caught. He was panting - his breath was fierce on the side of my neck. "Touch yourself, Duo - I can't -"   
  
I peeled one hand from his shoulder, and felt him adjust his stance so that he took my weight again. His legs bent briefly, then straightened again; he continued to thrust into me, his thighs under mine, the open zip of his pants starting to scratch at my exposed flesh. I didn't care. I fisted my fingers round my cock, and I started to pump, gratefully.   
  
His breath hitched, and his head dipped - he was watching it, my hand twisted up between our tight bodies, riding up and down my swollen shaft. His teeth tightened briefly on the skin of my shoulder.   
  
" _Close_..." he hissed, and his hips started to slam into me more quickly. I could feel him swelling inside me - I squeezed at myself, dragging myself desperately to completion. He was gonna come soon, and I was either gonna be flattened against the wall, or be yanked unceremoniously down on to my ass. There was a nagging pain in my lower back already, trying to keep myself upright as he fucked me. But I didn't need any help to get there - the climax came rushing like a geyser, and my pumping hand became a blur.   
  
" _Heero - shit -_!"   
  
I started to moan, and then the last things I saw before the ecstasy robbed me of sense were his eyes opening wider in the half-light, and a shocked smile spreading over his mouth. Even as my hot cum hit our stomachs and began to drip down between us, he gave a shout and fell hard against me, pushing me upwards, and pressing bruises into my buttocks, as he jerked, and came himself.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
It was damn quiet in that tiny room, despite the harsh, ragged breathing. My legs fell away from his hips; he pulled his cock out of me and let me back down awkwardly to the floor. I leant back against the wall. My whole body throbbed with it; with the climax - with the excitement - with the physical strain.   
  
"You OK?" I whispered in the darkness.   
  
I felt him nod. His head was bowed against my shoulder; his hand gripped my waist, as if he were supporting himself as well.   
  
"It's damn tight in here..." I tried a feeble joke.   
  
"Damn _good_..." came the hissed reply. I wasn't arguing. Just wondered what I was gonna say now. How do you follow a fucking like that? Judging by my earlier, pathetic 'come here often' gambit, I knew I was out of practice in charming my partners.   
  
Didn't think Heero was looking for that, anyway.   
  
What _was_ he looking for?   
  
I bent at the knees, fumbling for my pants. My boxers were pushed into my hand, and I felt Heero's sweaty palm underneath.   
  
"Thanks."   
  
Silence, as I dressed myself. I was sticky all over my stomach; I didn't want it to soak through my clothes when I still had to walk out of here. I had the handle of a backpack tangled round my ankle; one of those damn umbrellas was jabbing its point into my kidney. I wondered if we needed some sorta code to get out of here, or whether I'd actually end up spending the night.   
  
But there was suddenly another crack of light, and I knew that Heero had opened the door back out to the club. The noise level increased; I heard someone shriek with laughter. I could see his silhouette against the yellow light - then he turned, and I could see his features. He'd run his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. His shirt was buttoned carefully. The pants looked like they'd been moulded to his body at birth.   
  
I suspected I looked like I'd been dragged through the proverbial hedge, and then back again just for the hell of it.   
  
He was staring at me, so I guessed that must be it.   
  
"So, Duo..." he murmured. "You gotta go?"   
  
I couldn't make out the inflection in his voice. But I knew my cue when I heard it. "Guess so." What was I meant to do? Thank him for the hospitality? For the fuck? Some weird, adult spin on 'Thank you for having me?'   
  
I straightened myself up, determine to retain some kinda dignity. I was finding it difficult. I stared back at him; at the indecipherable expression in those wide, deep eyes. At the still, controlled body. At the shape of the lush, plump lips that matched the mark of teeth on my shoulder...   
  
Yeah - difficult, indeed.   
  
It was a long walk home.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
The following Saturday, the guys insisted on coming out with me. When I suggested the club again, Trowa lifted an eyebrow, but agreed readily enough.   
  
"The food's good - there are few places with decent vegetarian options," he said, mildly.   
  
"The music's great!" enthused Quatre.   
  
"Though Duo doesn't dance..." murmured Trowa, turning to gaze at me.   
  
If they were trying to draw me out, they were gonna fail. Too many years of hidden agenda - I was an acknowledged master of the mask.   
  
The meal was, indeed, good. Quatre and Trowa fondled each other throughout, then Quatre went to dance, as his public demanded, and Trowa sat with me, sipping a beer thoughtfully.   
  
"Who is he, Duo?"   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"The guy who's watching you. The one you're staring at."   
  
Heero stood, as before, at the bar. People pushed past him, grabbed drinks, rolled away laughing and shouting. He still stood there. A coupla large guys stood close by, but they didn't turn his way. No-one else approached him, though I saw plenty looking. Guess he has a better protection strategy than I do, I thought sourly. Then I was ridiculously pleased that he _did_ \- I don't know what I would have done if I'd seen him pick up someone else.   
  
I hadn't assumed that he'd come here again. I didn't know what his habits were. Where he spent his weekends. Christ, I knew nothing about him except his first name - if it were genuine - and the feel of his cock inside me.   
  
Kinda strange reference, eh?   
  
I saw no reason to lie to Trowa. "His name's Heero. I - I had a drink with him the other Saturday." Sort of the truth, wasn't it?   
  
"He's familiar - but I can't say I've seen him regularly down here. Is he local?" Trowa, despite his quiet manner, knew most of the bar owners and regulars in town. He was trying to say something to me, apart from the words. I could sense that much. And the look he threw Heero's way was wary. "Are you sure you know him?"   
  
Know him? I felt like shouting. I've been fucked by him, Trowa! My mouth was dry again, despite the drink I'd just taken; my legs felt weak. I wasn't sure if my head was on straight, 'cos I seemed to be feeling a little dizzy. I was beginning to realise that being fucked by Heero was maybe more than just his cock up my ass and his hands on my buttocks...   
  
"He's very attractive," murmured Trowa. "Guess he knows it too, eh?" The music was escalating again, as I was learning it always did at this stage of the evening. It was getting difficult to hear each other, though I didn't think T would take that as an excuse for ignoring him. We both watched Q dancing, weaving through the crowds, drawing the music to and through him. T continued to stare, possessively - I let my gaze drift back to the bar.   
  
The evening was becoming surreal. And, to be honest, it was hurting to sit there, with Heero only feet away. I wanted to go to him. I wanted to touch him again. He was in the ubiquitous black jeans, but matched tonight by a sleeveless vest, in some kind of dark blue silk. A black leather jacket was slung over a shoulder. Had he just arrived? Or was he ready to leave already?   
  
He looked back at me - I was absurdly pleased that his gaze came straight to me, like it sought me out. And held me. If he lifted that glass as he'd done before, with its subtle invitation, I'd be there in a second.   
  
"You OK, Duo?" Trowa was a blur at the periphery of my sight.   
  
"Yeah, of course I am."   
  
"You seem kind of - distracted. As if something's nagging away at you. You wanna tell me anything - anything I can help you with?" T's voice was low and urgent.   
  
"Nah, I'm fine."   
  
"Duo..." T sighed, as if he didn't know how to go on.   
  
He meant well, I know. He would've had to have been blind and stupid to miss how I gazed at Heero. How my whole body leant towards him. I was kinda surprised to see that Heero seemed to be the same. He continued to gaze at me, that slow smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth. I saw his gaze flicker to Trowa, then back to me. A lifting of his lids; a lazy droop back to cover the flashing eyes. It was all the encouragement I needed. Just needed to tell T, I guess, that I wasn't gonna be gooseberry to him and Q for the rest of the night...   
  
I stood. I think I heard Trowa sigh with frustration.   
  
"Thanks, T, but I gotta go. See you two back at the apartment, OK?"   
  
"Duo..."   
  
"Yeah?" My mind wasn't on my friend any more. It wasn't really here at all. It was reaching out for Heero; reaching for his sharp, rare words; for his fingers inside me. For his goddamn arrogance. For the carelessness he'd given me...   
  
"Is this what you want?"   
  
"What?" What did T mean? But, of course, it meant that he knew...he knew what I was thinking; where I was going. Maybe what I was gonna do.   
  
I can always talk to Trowa. Q is a little more volatile - but T has been supportive of me in many ways. And he's often very wise, considering his young age. Not that I've always got time for wisdom. He reminds me a lot, actually, of Wufei, in his character and his self-confidence.   
  
But I wasn't ready to share my feelings with anyone yet - not even my closest friends. Hell, I wasn't quite sure what highlights I coulda given them, anyway!   
  
Christ, I hope they never asked me for Heero's full name...   
  
"Be careful, Duo."   
  
I didn't look at Trowa but I smiled at the seriousness in his voice. "What are you, my mother? I'm fine."   
  
I watched as Heero slipped the jacket over his shoulders and pulled away from the bar. He started to walk towards the main exit with a long, slow stride. He wasn't trying to leave me behind, I somehow knew. But an irrational panic rose up in me as if he were. I grabbed my coat off the back of the chair. My eyes followed the broad shoulders and the tight ass.   
  
And then so did my legs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I came outside the club, shrugging on my coat. Bunches of people ebbed round me, making their own way in - the lights from the entrance desk shone behind me; bursts of music followed me, every time the door was opened to let someone in. Heero stood at the base of the steps, leaning back against a car. It looked expensive, and well-kept; midnight-blue paintwork, like his shirt tonight. Seat covers black as his hair. Woodwork on the dashboard as dark and bronzed as the colour of his skin. I had this thing bad, eh?   
  
I looked round; no-one was asking him to move his vehicle on. And I thought it was a restricted zone, even for cabs. The bouncers stood at attention by the doorway - shades hid their eyes. I couldn't see if they were looking at him or not.   
  
"Your car, Heero?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
Was he gonna ask me to ride with him? Was I finally gonna see something or somewhere that told me more about him? Or would we just drive to some lay-by somewhere, pull in, and fuck away in the back seat, seeking frenziedly to sate our desperation? I knew I could speak for mine...   
  
"Something more to say, Duo?" He sounded a little tense, but he didn't move. "I see it in your eyes. In the way you stand there."   
  
I thought on what Trowa had said. He'd obviously picked up on something about Heero - even in that brief time. He was worried. Was _I_ worried? "Do you live round here? My friend thinks you're kinda familiar, but he can't think from where."   
  
"So?"   
  
I admitted to myself that I didn't really know what I was trying to get at. I walked down the steps, and halted a yard or so away from him.   
  
"What are they saying, Duo? These friends of yours? They trying to run your life for you?"   
  
"No way!" I replied, heatedly. "But they care about me, and that's fine by me. You've got friends, haven't you? You know what it's like, when you meet someone new, when it's someone they -"   
  
" - know fuck all about. Yeah, I know." He stared at me, as I fidgeted there on the sidewalk. I could feel his eyes burning through my clothes. I could feel my body opening up to him - my cock straining for him. He shifted a little, and I wondered with a glorious wildness whether he was feeling the same excited discomfort. But then - why should he? He'd called all the shots so far. I was the patsy, wasn't I?   
  
He sighed. His eyes drifted, very slightly, as if he looked elsewhere. Then they snapped back, staring at me, before I had a chance to follow any other direction. "Yeah. The interference. It used to be like that for me, too."   
  
"Used to?"   
  
He shrugged. The muscles under his vest rippled gently, promising so much that I felt the painful heat in my groin. "Don't tell 'em anything; I never do, now. It's my own affair, what I do. Who I do it with. Nothing to do with anyone else."   
  
"You _got_ friends, Heero?" Don't know what made me ask it, but I somehow wondered. He was so singular. He was so self-contained. He didn't need anyone else. Didn't need _me_...   
  
He didn't answer directly, though his mouth twisted at the side, like he smiled at the thought. "That blond one - are you his?"   
  
I knew he meant Quatre. Everyone knew Q at the clubs - he was the dancer. He was the streak of light and speed that turned heads as he passed. He was the one who drew the crowds - not me.   
  
"Yeah, Quatre's a friend. But I'm not _his_ , as you say, and neither is he mine. Just friends..."   
  
The smile on his face broadened. There was a twinkle in his eye - a kinda mischief. "Yeah, I guess not. He blew me out a coupla months ago - I just wondered why. If he was taken."   
  
"He is!" I blustered. "He's with my other friend - you saw him at the table." Q rarely went out without T, but there had been times... _Jeez_... I was horrified at the wave of nausea that had engulfed me. For several reasons. "You made a play for Q -?"   
  
"Hardly that," drawled Heero. He twisted his body to ease the car keys out of his jeans pocket. It was an elegant, sensual movement. It looked like he was trying to be careless, but from the way his face turned, sneaking a look at my expression out of the corner of his eye, he musta known he'd shocked me. I think he was enjoying it. "Just got my messages mixed, OK? He looked like he was on his own - looked available. And his body screams it, doesn't it? Screams sex, and men, and _need_... Guess I thought it was me he was aiming at."   
  
Arrogant prick! I thought. Shit, was I _jealous_? I'd never been here before - in direct competition with one of the guys! It'd be amusing if it wasn't so - so -   
  
"I'm glad I waited, though," Heero was saying. He'd turned back to face me. He rolled the keys around in his hand, aimlessly. His eyes ran up and down my body, trailing hot slices of frustration and need in their wake. "The messages are a damn sight clearer from you. The screams are a damn sight _louder_..."   
  
It's just sex, I told myself. My head whirled. I'm just a piece of ass. Look how he talks about it...about _me_.   
  
"Get in the car."   
  
I paused. I wanted something else, I guess. Some other word. Whereas my cock - I sighed to myself, wearily - just wanted him. He snapped his head back suddenly, stretching his arms out behind his shoulders. Popped his fingers as if he'd been still for too long and needed action. He moved with the restrained energy of a wild cat - like something feral. Something predatory. He spoke, as if he'd heard my thoughts, and was angry or tired of them.   
  
"You just wanna talk some more, then?" he growled. His hand snaked out suddenly, and grabbed my neck. "Or do you wanna fuck?"   
  
I opened my mouth to reply and sucked on his tongue instead. He had his answer. People were staring at us, as they passed on the sidewalk, as we ate each other hungrily. I thought I saw the bouncers move uneasily, out of the corner of my eye.   
  
I got in the car.   
  
I don't need to explain anything else, probably. We never went anywhere - no party, no bar; no sight of where Heero may live or work. But no bleak, windy lay-by, either. He pulled into the tree-lined garden car park of a quiet motel, turned off the lights, and flipped the seats back. There was no noise or movement anywhere around us. We were shaded from the motel itself, and every sane person had left their car and gone into the warm rooms, long before now. I made some feeble joke about him having no money left for a room.   
  
"I like you better right here," he hissed. "I do it when I want it. _Where_ I want it. Where no-one else sees me. Follow the impulse; the sudden impulse! It's so much more exciting. Don't you agree, Duo? Ahh... but I know you do - because you came with me again..."   
  
His mouth was on my neck, and I wriggled myself out of the seatbelt, trying to get some kinda comfortable position. He had hands up under my shirt, wrenching it out from my pants, pulling the buttons apart with such force that one of them sprang off into the depths of the car. His palms were damp with sweat; his fingers rough. He ran them up my chest, across to my left nipple, and he twisted it. I yelped.   
  
"Hurts, Duo?"   
  
I lay back against the cool seat covers, and I panted. "No..."   
  
I felt the smile on his lips against my flesh. He was licking up from my navel, up to the other nipple. He flicked it back and forth with his tongue, inside his mouth. I felt the vibration down to my toes. My legs instinctively stretched apart.   
  
He laughed softly, running his free hand down between my thighs, teasing at the material of my jeans, cumbersome now, sticking to my skin with my own sweat and desire. "Soon, Duo... soon I'll fuck you." He cupped at my groin, rubbing firmly so that he could feel the swelling there. He made it much, _much_ worse! I heard a zip go, but to my disappointment, it wasn't mine. His hand slid up to grasp me by the neck again, and for a few long seconds his mouth was back on mine, thrusting his tongue into me, moaning his lust into me.   
  
Then he fell away from me, gasping. He lay himself back on his own seat, tugging my head after him, over his prone body. He pulled at the open flies of his jeans, impatiently. I saw then that he had no underwear on tonight. The cloth parted, and his cock was there, straining to get out into the night air; weeping for attention. My mouth watered.   
  
"Suck me again, Duo. It was good..."   
  
I bent myself awkwardly at the waist, avoiding a minefield of buttons and switches, and leant over his body, trapping his nearer arm under me. I went down on him. He jerked at my first touch, and my head banged back against the edge of the wheel. But I sucked back down towards the base of his cock and began the slow savouring of him. I licked and sucked from the balls, up to the hot tip, shining in the dark. I could taste the drops leaking out - feel the ripple of excitement along the shaft. I wondered how long this rock hard rod had been aching for this; how the hell he'd managed to concentrate on his driving with this in his pants, clamouring to get out.   
  
His free hand clutched at my hair, pushing my head up and down. Damn, but he liked it...   
  
Things were bubbling deep in his groin. I could feel the tightening of his balls against my chin - the throbbing of the cock in my mouth. I opened my throat to take it all in.   
  
But like the first night, just as his climax was beating a path to escape, he tugged at my head, trying to pull me away. Tonight, though, I wasn't gonna take it like that. Perhaps I was getting bored with the whole submissive thing... I growled in my throat, tightening my lips on his member, and I resisted. He faltered; nervous, perhaps, that if he pulled at me too hard my teeth would scrape a deep and angry passage all the way up that very, _very_ sensitive flesh. I continued my sucking - I wanted to taste him.   
  
"No!" he hissed. I could feel him struggling with the need to climax - the rising ecstasy. He tried to slap my head away - I caught his hand and gripped him by the wrist. I pressed the free arm back against the window. He was trapped now. And still I savoured him.   
  
"You want me to fight you?" I murmured into his soft skin, dragging it up over his slit, then peeling it back down. He whimpered. "Is that what you want?"   
  
"Stop..." he moaned. But his hips bucked up into me.   
  
"I wanna swallow it, Heero," I gurgled. "I wanna swallow you."   
  
He looked confused - even a little shocked. "That's not - oh _fuck_ -!" I was swirling my tongue around the swollen tip. It was reaching for my throat, I could feel it. Damn, but I remembered now how I always gave really good head...   
  
"No-one ever done that for you, Heero? No-one ever tasted you? Drunk you?"   
  
His silence was enough answer.   
  
" _Good_..." I hissed, and then he gasped and the flood came. His hips crushed me up against the steering column, his fingers gripped my scalp painfully, and he keened his essence out into my mouth, pumping again and again, hot and sharp-tasting and richly thick.   
  
_Damn_ , but I also remembered how _good_ cum tastes!   
  
*   
  
There was an awkward moment, then. He lay, gasping for breath, the after shocks still coursing through him. I nibbled a while at his softening cock, then I levered myself back on to my seat. Wiped my mouth, carefully. Teased a thin, remaining thread between my lips. I lay back, aware of the pain in my own groin.   
  
Something had changed. The balance of things. Perhaps because he'd lost absolute control at the last minute. Perhaps because I'd done something for him no-one else ever had. Perhaps because we were stuck out here together and if either of us was unhappy with it, well, what would we do? I, for one, didn't know _where_ the fuck I was.   
  
Perhaps I think too much.   
  
He was listening to my harsh breath, but not moving nearer. I reached a hand to my jeans, and slipped it inside. I wanted the touch on my swollen cock. Yeah, I wanted Heero, but above all, I wanted the touch. I slipped the zip down, breathing relief, and I started to rub myself, up and down, as tortuously slowly as I could stand.   
  
My eyes slid half shut with pleasure, but I knew he was watching me. He lifted himself up on one arm and looked down on me.   
  
" _Heero_..." I murmured. His name sounded good on my lips.   
  
"Take them off," he whispered. "Keep touching yourself, but take the jeans off."   
  
It was a challenge, OK, but I somehow managed to wriggle the jeans and boxers down my legs, and to pull one ankle out. I could move more freely now. I lay back, bending the leg nearest the window at the knee - I could get a better grip now. The windows were steaming up nicely - I was panting heavily as I worked myself up and down - the car rocked very slightly.   
  
"Gonna come soon..." I sighed. "You just - gonna - watch?"   
  
"No..." came the silky reply. He seemed to have recovered his composure. Possibly his libido as well - I had no idea what sorta stamina this guy had. "Turn over - towards the window. On your side."   
  
More wriggling, and I lay on my side, watching the window, now opaque with our lusty breath. I kept pumping - the movement was slick and fast now. I was leaking all over my hand. Then I felt Heero's hand close over mine, and I paused for a painful second.   
  
"Keep pumping," he hissed in my ear. He nipped at my lobe, mixing the sudden pain with the increasing pleasure. He moved my hand aside, and ran his own up and down my length a coupla times. He cupped his hand over my tip so that I gasped aloud with the thrill. Then I realised what he was doing - he was collecting the pre-cum on his fingers.   
  
My heart nearly stopped with anticipation.   
  
" _Keep pumping_ I said!" he growled. I did. I wasn't far off now.   
  
And then I felt it - Heero's fingers up between my cheeks, ghosting at my hole; teasing the soft skin behind my balls. I strained to reach him; strained to receive him. A fingertip slid into me.   
  
"That'll do it..." I groaned. Even as he probed for my prostate, his palm flat against my skin, another finger seeking entrance - I felt the uncontrollable throb in my cock, and the seed burst out over me and the seat beneath me. I shook - I gasped. The car's suspension bounced under me.   
  
Panting, I spiralled down from my climax. I felt some calm returning to my spinning senses. But Heero was still fingering me. He'd dragged himself half off his seat and half into the space between us; musta been really uncomfortable. I dreaded to think where the gear stick might be resting. His chest was pressing against my back - I could feel his thigh nudging hard against mine. I wondered if I should suggest moving into the back seat for anything further. I could feel the heat behind me now; the thick, solid column of flesh, his cock, sprung back to eager life. Rubbing itself up against my ass. It felt like he'd pulled his own pants down - I couldn't feel that nagging nuisance that was his zip. His leg prised itself in between mine, lifting my upper leg until it hung over his hip.   
  
"Here?" I gasped.   
  
" _Now_..." he replied. His voice was hoarse. Even as I wondered what the hell lube he was gonna use, and how in God's name I was gonna get my leg far enough over on this narrow seat - even as my cock throbbed sadly in the afterglow of its climax, he removed his fingers from my ass and nudged his cock up there instead. I moaned. I stretched my upper leg up and forward, so that my knee touched the door. I grabbed at the handle, my nose almost up against the upholstery.   
  
I heard him flip open the glove compartment, and then felt him fumble with a condom. When his cock came back up against me, it was cool and dry. Not like that, you don't, I thought. "Use my cum," I hissed. No-one was gonna rip me apart, however much I wanted him. His hand snaked round to my groin, where the sad puddle sat in my lap, dripping now on to the seat beside me, and he scooped it up. There was a gentle shaking of the seat behind me, as he rubbed my seed over him. He'd be smoothing it impatiently over the red-angry flesh. I could see that through those eyes you're meant to develop in the back of your head. I could imagine every detail going on behind my back. My own flesh was blinking back to life at the thought.   
  
Then his breath was harsh on my neck again; he rolled hard against me, gripping my waist, forcing his hip under my upper thigh. And he pushed his cock into me.   
  
Guess I like being uke. Guess I hadn't had the option of anything else yet. Guess I wasn't bothered, because it was so damn _good_! It was briefly painful, there wasn't much room to manoeuvre, and my leg started shaking from the tension of holding it up and away. But he musta been quickly recovered from my sucking, 'cos it took him less than three minutes to thrust into me and to come again. Less than three minutes, and a few stifled groans, and more abuse to the car's suspension.   
  
I was half erect again but, to be honest, the way I was cramped against the side of the car wasn't conducive to another climax. When he shuddered inside me and finished, I let him ease himself out and fall back on to his seat. Something creaked, and I don't know if it was the gear stick or the steering column. Or me. My erection was dreaming of past glories, and very shortly it'd sink away to mere memories.   
  
"You're fantastic, Duo." The words were spoken almost dreamily. It didn't sound like Heero's harsh, aggressive tone at all. And that's the only way I'd ever heard him.   
  
I felt shaken. I'm not sure he meant me to hear it.   
  
I was silent for what seemed like a long time, looking at the window. It was as if neither of us knew what to say now. I was in turmoil. I wanted to sleep. I never wanted to sleep again. I wanted to touch him again. I wanted to push him away. I wanted just to hold him...   
  
I wanted to leave.   
  
"Take me back to town," I said. My voice was stark in the cold, clear air. The car was chill now - our bodies were starting to shiver.   
  
"Take me back."   
  
It sounded like he held his breath for a few seconds. Then he shifted himself carefully, pulling the condom off into a tissue, and pulling his pants back up to his hips. I was doing the same, cursing the narrow space; ignoring the awkward imprint of the seat belt clasp on my thigh. He started the car.   
  
My eyes were still confused with the dark outside. The side windows were still fogged. But I thought I saw a pair of car headlights spring alight, just as we pulled out of the car park. There was no other traffic around. They seemed to follow our path for quite some way until they finally turned off, just as we drove back into areas I recognised.   
  
Heero dropped me off near the club. Drove away swiftly. Since I'd asked him to go back, everything had been in complete silence.   
  
*   
  
It was eating away at me. _He_ was. I dreamt him. Breathed him; heard him; tasted him. I woke up nights, holding myself so tightly it hurt, and begging for it to be his hand on my cock, his fingers up inside me -   
  
I listened to the guys making love at night along the hall, with a guilty pleasure.   
  
I masturbated silently; a little ashamedly, but always _exquisitely_.   
  
And I sought him out again.   
  
*   
  
Quatre had one of those looks on his face. One of those looks I hadn't seen since I was a kid, and was first caught stealing. A mixture of admonition and understanding. Very difficult to balance, those two. I sighed to myself.   
  
"You're in very deep, Duo. I'm concerned about you."   
  
"In what way, Q?"   
  
He peered at me, a little suspicious of my calm. "This guy you're dating -"   
  
Is that what I'd call it?   
  
"He has a reputation for being..." He paused, confused by my open expression. "He's unusual, Duo. He's a little wild - reckless. He's a loner. No-one's quite sure where his money comes from, but he has plenty of it. And little enough work to keep him occupied. And rumour is - he dates a lot. Doesn't usually go beyond a couple of times with one guy, though."   
  
Damn, he _was_ being like my mother! If I'd remembered her at all. And he wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know, or had guessed. Except, perhaps, the bit about the 'coupla times' dating. Looked like I'd already blown that one out of the water. Though I wasn't necessarily counting how many times we'd been together...   
  
"You been checking up on me, Q?"   
  
He had the decency to blush. "Not on you, Duo!"   
  
"On Heero, then?"   
  
Trowa appeared at his shoulder. "Don't be so damn difficult, Duo! Of course we checked up on him. You seem totally obsessed by him..."   
  
That was true, of course. I couldn't wait for the weekends to come along, so I'd started hanging out at the club during the week as well. I did Ladies' Night; I did Tarts 'n Vicars Night; I'd been nearly humiliated at the under 21s-night. But it had been worth it. In all cases, Heero had appeared at the bar within an hour of my arrival.   
  
I didn't know how to take that. Did the man hang out there every night? Or were there some other kinda jungle drums that called him there?   
  
Did I care? Each time, we'd exchange some empty talk that I could never remember properly afterwards, then he'd take me somewhere - back out into the alley; in his car; sometimes to the silent shell of a deserted store in the shopping mall. Anywhere; just so's we could fuck. We took a motel room once, but only because I complained about my ass being stripped and pounded in the pouring rain one too many times. I hate the rain!   
  
I was always uke, but it was fine by me. The feel of him inside me; the desire that sprang from him like an electrical charge; the imprint of his hands on my body - it was the best I'd ever known. We liked it that way, I guess; we were both high on the excitement and the risk involved. We weren't so desperate that we wanted to be caught - it wasn't that kind of recklessness. But it seemed that we felt the need for each other like breath, and we weren't gonna wait for the feather bed to satisfy it.   
  
"Duo - are you listening?" Trowa's voice cut in. "It's just such a change, to find you clubbing and out every night. You're drinking again - you seem..."   
  
Different, he was gonna say.   
  
"...different, somehow."   
  
I stared back, but I softened it with a slight smile.   
  
"Yeah..." sighed Trowa. Q was meant to be the intuitive one, but it was Trowa who understood the look in my eye. "I understand. OK, man, it's up to you."   
  
"Wha -?" Q was protesting at the silent conversation that he seemed to have missed.   
  
"He's going to continue seeing him, Q, love. He likes him. It's not for us to tell him who to see, is it?"   
  
"Trow..." I began, slowly. "You say you found out who he is -? Heero?"   
  
"Not - _exactly_..." T raised an eyebrow at my question. "I mean - you know his name is Heero Yuy - don't you? - and he seems to do just what he likes at the club. They know him in town only where he spends his money. The stores - the garage. The restaurants. But no-one is saying anything more."   
  
"What d'you mean - not saying?"   
  
"Damn, I didn't mean it was sinister or anything!" laughed T. "Just that no-one seems to have met him socially - or worked with him - or -" he looked at me, appraisingly, "- or dated him. He has a place in the Royal apartments -"   
  
Q whistled softly. Even _his_ family only had a small pied-a-terre there.   
  
"- and that's as much as I know." T stared at me - I knew what he was thinking. _Like, is that as much as_ you _know, Duo_?   
  
I bit at my lip. Curiouser and curiouser. But I was going out again. I was going out to find Heero, and to offer my body for him to use, and it was all I wanted at the moment.   
  
"Duo, you won't leave again, will you?" That was Q - ever the blunt, seemingly ingenuous questions. "Not without telling us..."   
  
"I'm OK, Q," I said. His bright blue eyes were wide; damn guy looked like a teenage kid! No wonder the groupies chased him. "Chill. I'm seeing Heero, and it's good, and I know what I'm doing." I thought that I did, now. Maybe not at first - when it had been my physical desire and Heero's lust that had propelled me on. They were strong instincts, indeed. I'd known them all my life, and fought them for a slightly shorter time. Yeah - I'd been down that hellhole before, and I wasn't gonna be sucked under again. Not in the same way.   
  
"The sex... the physical attraction. It's - it can consume you, Duo -"   
  
"Yeah," I agreed, with a grin. I knew that. I'd never had so much before - never felt so alive to it, before. Despite the sore ass, and the scratches on my back, and the aching limbs... "You jealous?"   
  
Q flushed even deeper. Trowa grinned.   
  
"Things are turning out well for you, Duo. Have been for a while, eh? We just don't want to see things turn back. For your sake, not ours."   
  
"I know, T," I replied. It was a warning, perhaps, as well as a comment. He recognised it as such. Quatre would soon, too. "You're gonna have to trust me on this one, guys."   
  
I grabbed my jacket and left.   
  
*   
  
I never made it to the club that night. Not that I had a better offer - no, I couldn't call it that.   
  
I shouldn't have cut across the back of the silent mall, though it was a shorter route by twenty minutes. And I'd never had any problems there. 'Til tonight.   
  
There were two of 'em - taller than me, twice as broad, in casual gear and wearing shades at night, which was a strong indication of the IQ accompanying them. Probably shared between 'em.   
  
For a sudden, shocking moment, I thought that I recognised one of 'em. From a miserable life that I thought was long-past. The realisation was too awful to consider - I felt the nausea rise up in me even at the thought. How could it be him? I was terrified at how easily it could all come flooding back, when I'd done so much to keep it well down...   
  
But I didn't have time to swap reminiscences. They were tough. _Fucking_ tough. I'm no gentle flower, y'know - I learnt a lot over the last year or so, and it wasn't always how to negotiate. It was how to respond when the guys facing you looked just like these two.   
  
But I was outta practice - I was caught unawares. 'Praps I was becoming a model citizen after all, and never expected to face this kinda confrontation again. Anyway, after a few ineffectual punches from me, they smacked my head and abdomen about for several minutes, like it was some kinda entertainment for them - like I guess it may have been. I fell to my knees, retching out over the sidewalk, and clutching my stomach like it was straining to escape from my body. I wondered how small I could roll myself to keep away from the kicks and the fists. I wondered if this was just a taster - whether there was gonna be any weapon involved.   
  
"Back off," one of them grunted. He knelt - surprisingly quickly for his size - and smashed his fist into the side of my neck, so that my breath fell away in shock.   
  
Back off - from what? I only had a little cash with me in my wallet. My jacket was old - and I had no expensive jewellery to speak of. What did they want?   
  
"Keep your fuckin' fag hands off Mr Yuy," growled the other one. Maybe the same one. I wasn't hearing too well. Then another boot caught my ribs, landing squarely on a patch that was already bruised beyond sensation - my groaning drowned out anything else.   
  
And they were gone. As fast as they'd appeared   
  
_Christ_ , I thought, as I rolled in agony on the ground. If he wanted to dump me, couldn't he just vanish into the night himself? Or dammit - he could tell me he was tired of my ass, and wanted to find another. Did he have to send Mountain and Co. to thump the message out on my ribcage?   
  
Is that what Heero wants? ran the thoughts in my head. Did he send them?   
  
Or what the hell else is going on? 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Christ, did Quatre make a fuss!   
  
I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd broken more 'n a coupla ribs before now, and a few bruises weren't gonna make or break any career aspirations as a male model. But he nursed me well enough, despite my pain and my anger and my stubborn refusal to tell them what had happened. We established most of the damage was on the surface - I was assured I'd be eating and drinking and on my way back to normal in a matter of days.   
  
Yeah, most of that happened. But not the 'back to normal' bit.   
  
It probably took me over a week before I could roll myself easily out of bed - another few days before I could go up and down stairs myself, and do all the other things you take for granted when you're fit and able. I had bruises on bruises. I reckoned a rib may have been cracked, but I told Q it was just a wrenched muscle. It'd heal on its own, and I didn't want any further fuss. Spent too long in the last coupla years avoiding hospitals and the like.   
  
I slept a lot. I brooded a lot.   
  
My nights were anguished; my dreams were wet and frustrated, and when I woke in the dark with a heavy sweat on, there was no comfort in the memories of that sudden, shocking beating.   
  
I just wished I knew what the fuck was going on.   
  
*   
  
I really didn't want to drop the guys off at the club that Saturday. Even for the chance to drive Q's sleek new car.   
Couldn't they get a cab? I argued.   
Why was I so upset about it? they countered.   
I wasn't fucking upset, I growled.   
Why was I growling then? they said...   
  
Anyway, the argument was lost, and I drove them to the end of the street.   
  
Quatre tumbled out of the car, resplendent in black satin sprayed-on pants, and a shirt that barely covered his nipples. He was already waving to a coupla friends arriving at the same time. Trowa slid his way out of the seat to join him. I risked a glimpse at the club, weighing up the door monuments - two of 'em again, wide guys in heavy black suits and the ridiculous shades.   
  
I couldn't see the guy I thought I'd recognised. But, then, why should I? How could I have recognised someone I'd known almost a year ago, in another city, across state; in another Life, for God's sake? Guess I was hallucinating, or something.   
  
I felt the pain returning, but it wasn't just my aching ribs. The sight of the club was disturbing me; the sight of the steps where he'd stood, leaning insouciantly against the car, waiting for me. The memory of the alley; of the cloakroom. Of it all. Something else was aching, and it was fucking annoying me.   
  
I started to pull away from the kerb.   
  
"Duo!" The call was peremptory - it was annoyed. I knew it was Heero.   
  
_Fuck_.   
  
My heart raced. My cock throbbed. I cursed every nerve I possessed for betraying me like this. I wondered why he was here again. Why he'd think it necessary to waste further time on me. Most of all, I wondered why the hell I couldn't have driven away that little bit faster. God knows, Q's car had the acceleration. I wondered, I wondered....   
  
Meanwhile, Heero strode quickly and easily to the car, and his hand was on the open window. I didn't like to drive away and leave him fingerless, so I stalled it.   
  
Damn, I should never have thought about his fingers at all...his fingers on my hips... his fingers at my mouth... his fingers sliding into me.   
  
Damn! I missed him.   
  
"Duo, where have you been?"   
  
"I got your message," I said, sharply. I could smell the tang of his cologne in my nostrils. My damn body reacted of its own free will, and I was immediately, fiercely aroused. I hoped to God he couldn't see it. "There's nothing more to say, is there?"   
  
"Message?"   
  
"The postcard with a punch," I spat out. "The warning off. Couldn't you have just left me a note behind the bar? Tucked a dollar in my pants and patted me off home -?"   
  
"What are you talking about?" he growled. But he met my eyes, and in that instant he knew. So maybe it was a sudden realisation. Or maybe he had known before. Whichever it was, his eyes darkened with even more anger. "A warning about what, Duo? Who brought you a warning?"   
  
"Some lumps of cretinous concrete like those heavies up there," I snapped. "Told me to keep my fuckin' fag hands off you. You think I can't understand my native language, Heero? And as I don't welcome a coupla more bruised and bent bones, I think I'm gonna take some heed of it..."   
  
"They beat you?" The tightness of his tone jarred on my nerves. I wasn't sure what was happening here, but I knew I wanted out. And fast.   
  
"They tried," I replied. "Like, a coupla months back I'd have given them a better run for their money. I might've taken a few bones in return. But I don't need that now, Heero. I got better things to do. And safer guys t'see..."   
  
I was genuinely angry, but I knew my words were largely bravado. I didn't want other guys, did I? And he knew that. He knew I didn't want 'safer'. Else I'd never have come anywhere near here again.   
  
"I'll take care of it, Duo."   
  
"Sure you will," I sighed. His hand was too close to mine. His breath curled the hair on my neck. His existence made me vibrate with desire. Fuck, I told myself again. "Doesn't matter to me. I gotta go."   
  
"You always go!" he spat. I was temporarily stunned. It was like the words had forced themselves out of his mouth - like he hadn't wanted to say them. "You fuck and run -"   
  
I didn't know what to make of this. He seemed genuinely disturbed - and still angry about the attack on me. I didn't know what else was going on in his handsome, well-groomed head. I put my hand to his, to push it away.   
  
He grabbed me instead.   
  
"Come with me, Duo. It's been weeks... I want you, you know that. I told you I'll take care of what's happened... "   
  
No! I thought, fiercely. His hand was strong over mine - he leant into the window, and his mouth ghosted its words at my ear. Half of my mind begged me to listen to him. Every instinctive inch of me tried to squeeze its way out from under the belt and flow against him. His lean, sensual body; his rich, acquisitive lips...   
  
The other half of my mind - the bloody-minded, masochistic half - won the battle. "Fuck off, Heero!" I growled. "My hands ain't good enough to touch you. Maybe those guys'll be down to show you who you can and can't touch -"   
  
I wrenched my arm away - I wrenched all the protesting inches of my flesh back under my control. He leant back, surprised - I saw it flash brightly in his gorgeous eyes. Then I slammed my foot on the gas, and the car lurched away from the kerb. Difficult to concentrate on the wheel when your cock is hammering to be let out of your too-tight pants, and there's a strange, painful tightness in your throat.   
  
I didn't do that corny old thing of looking back in the mirror as I drove off.   
  
No, I didn't.   
  
So maybe that was gonna be the last time I saw him.   
  
I still didn't.   
  
*   
  
Two days later, I was still prowling about the apartment and making everyone's life a misery. Couldn't settle to anything except dragging myself through work. At break times, I took myself off to a corner of the site, ignoring the others and hiding behind the local paper; not that there was ever anything to read in it.   
  
Today, there was only a small paragraph at the bottom of page 4.   
  
Guy found dead in alley - various speculative theories as to who and why. A guy with several names/pseudonyms. A criminal record substantially longer than my braid. Recently in the employ of the Club Underground.   
  
Local police thought it was an argument turned dangerously vicious - a falling-out among villains. No details of the cause of death. _Investigations continue_.   
  
I read the report with some shock. The words weren't too interesting - the less-than-complimentary mug shot that accompanied the words was more so. It was one of the guys who'd roughed me up. It was the guy I thought I'd recognised.   
  
You reap what you sow, I thought. Like - I had little sympathy for him. He lived that life - he died that death.   
  
But it did confirm to me that I _had_ known him. Too well to be mistaken.   
  
Things were getting murkier by the second.   
  
*   
  
Quatre had another of those looks on his face. I wondered sometimes how Trowa put up with the exhausting range of emotions that he inflicted on us all. Then I watched Trowa's calm, possessive hand on Q's ass, and I knew they had it sorted between them.   
  
But I knew I had nothing sorted out with anyone. I really needed to. And it was way overdue.   
  
"Tell us, Duo," said Trowa. They sat themselves down on the couch, effectively cutting off my retreat from the room, where I sat curled up on the armchair. When Q opened his mouth to add his penny's worth, T hushed him. "Tell us what happened while you were away. There's something going on that I don't understand, and I suspect it ties in with your past, as well as your present."   
  
I tried to shake my head, but it hurt.   
  
"I don't see how we can help you, Duo, if you don't tell us everything."   
  
"Don't need -"   
  
"Yes, you do," he replied, firmly. He had a full cup of steaming fruit tea in his hand. He was in for the duration. Damn friends, I growled inside.   
  
So I told him. It was a relief, to be honest. I told him about Rik, and why I left school, and that's when I discovered that he and Quatre had known all along. Or guessed, at least. It was a large school, but not so large that rumours got lost. And Q was already developing his spooky empathy, even then. We were close, y'know. Close enough for him to know what was running through my body.   
  
"And then?" prompted T.   
  
"From bad to worse..." I smiled. But the joke seemed to have lost its humour somewhere along the way. "I was on my own, y'see. Wanted to be the great Independent - the great Man. Making my own way - making my own success. Instead, I had no money, no food, got hit on whenever I tried to sleep on a park bench..."   
  
Q leant over and touched my shoulder, and for once I didn't mind. It was comforting.   
  
"So I got offered a job, didn't I? This guy would protect me from the jackals if I did some couriering for him. At first I just did some low level running - some messages; some packages. Drugs, probably, I dunno. I didn't care. My guy got me regular food, somewhere to sleep - " OK, I thought, quickly editing the story. So I had to sleep with _him_ a few times, but he was never that keen on the whole thing; it was over real quick. "And then he gave me more to do, and I had a band of kids to run wherever they were needed - I sorta looked after them."   
  
"Duo..."   
  
"Yeah," I sighed. T was no innocent - he was getting the picture. "So I was foolin' myself, I know. They were whores, of course they were, and most of 'em from homes like me. No-one gave a fuck what happened to them. But I thought I could ease the way a bit. And then I got real good at it - I got put in charge of the whole lot. I didn't have to run for my guy anymore - got good money, my own apartment, though it was never anything like yours."   
  
I had a feel for it, y'see - for the sex trade. Never had many inhibitions, did I? And morals weren't my strong point then, either. These guys found that there were no places in the world of sexual pleasure that Duo Maxwell couldn't go - couldn't service one way or another! I had a smart mouth, and fast moves - I moved _them_ out of trouble; moved myself into the way of opportunities; moved my poor little brood around so fast no-one ever had to challenge me. So they trusted me more and more. And I honestly thought the kids would be better _with_ me than without. I knew what each of 'em could do - what their limits were. And I could tell on the other hand what the johns were like - how safe; how stable. So I made good matches. I kept most of the kids alive and uncut.   
  
Most of 'em.   
  
I didn't tell the guys that on occasions, the kids couldn't do it, for one reason or another - fear; illness; whatever. I'd been known to put myself forward instead. I was tall, and older than most of 'em, which was never a good selling point. But I was skinny, and boyish, and the braid used to be a real attraction. Felt like they were getting a boy and a girl, all rolled into one...   
  
My mind shied away from the memories. I did it to save the kids.   
  
Most of 'em.   
  
"I ran around with the gang for a long while. Hung around the clubs all the time - did a smattering of drugs. Never got that interested in 'em, myself."   
  
And, to be honest, it was a heady, exciting time - I was someone important, albeit in the strange, warped world of the street. Guys looked up at me with respect. They feared me. They admired me. I had my choice of lovers, then - lots of 'em wanted me. And many of the partners I had were like me - quite decent people, but caught up in an indecent business. We might've stayed together longer in a different life. I might've found someone special.   
  
"But I knew it wasn't gonna last. I was the liaison - I was never in control. I just made contacts for the dealers. _They_ were the Controllers."   
  
"Friends?" Q was very pale.   
  
"Controllers," I repeated. Rather harshly. "Dealers. Contacts. I had no real friends there, Q. When it came down to it, it was a life of complete and utter solitude. Full of sudden, unexpected violence. Sickness; drug abuse. Pain. Cold, wet, fucking misery. No honour among thieves, that was all crap. That first guy fucked me, he beat me, and he made me work. And when I found the time and the appetite to beat him back, and take my own cut - well, he just did it to someone else. The cycle continued."   
  
"Was he the man? In the paper?" T's voice was low. He musta seen me clutching it to me, ever since I came back from work. He musta read the story himself - made the connection. He seemed calm, but he clutched his cup like it was a lifeline. I saw how Q had eased his way up closer to him on the couch. Like I said - our lives had begun to compare less and less.   
  
"Yeah..." my voice seemed to fail me a little. It had been a long time ago. Not long enough, obviously. "Peck, he was called. Pretty much on the lowest rungs of the scum scale. He reported to another guy called Shad. He was our personal Controller, I guess you'd call it. Though I don't think even he was the top man. God knows how many other layers of 'management' there were above him..."   
  
"You - dealt with him?"   
  
Trowa was pale, too, but there was a sturdier look to him; he knew more of the life I'd led than he told Q, I suspect.   
  
"Yeah. I dealt with Shad. In drugs; in kids. Peck tried to keep control over me, but I was faster 'n sharper than he'd ever be. Finally I bypassed him, and dealt direct - I was Shad's main contact." The memory of the other man made me shiver, against my will. Peck had been a gross, ugly bastard - but Shad was a whole different matter. He was a lot smarter than many others in the organisation. There were times he vanished for a day or so, I always assumed to collect his orders from the top guy - but the rest of the time, he ran his own personal empire around us. Staffed by us. He creamed off the best of the kids and added his own percentage to everything I did - I wondered sometimes how he got away with it. "We never saw anyone more important than him - than Shad. Most of us were terrified of 'im. There was talk sometimes, between him and other Controllers -" Yeah, I'd been a great eavesdropper. I could crawl around the alleys like a snake, and had ears as sharp. "They talked about a guy called Mr K, who was in charge of the whole city. But Shad never seemed afraid of him. He seemed to be invincible then."   
  
And then Peck himself had turned up here, months later, to beat the crap out of me. Was he still working for Shad? Were they _both_ here? What had happened to the shadowy Mr K? Had it been him - or someone else - who'd helped Peck on to his just desserts, a coupla days ago?   
  
T's quiet, strong voice brought me out of those thoughts and back to my sad little story. "And who was Wufei, Duo? Where was he in all this?"   
  
Ahh, I thought. Here was somewhere I did _not_ want to go. But I did.   
  
"He was something unusual, y'know? He came round the parks at night; at first I thought he had some kinda death wish. I think he may have been looking for someone. Then he gave up on that, and started looking out for the kids. Like I did - but not like I did. He was some kinda counsellor, I think. The kids used to hate 'em - the do-gooders. Never did _them_ any good. But he was different..."   
  
"Tell me, Duo."   
  
"No..." I sighed. "Don't think I can. It hurts too much. What he did for some of 'em - it hurts too much to remember. He took Joe in. He got Luce a place at some canteen. Got some medical help for others. He got sucked in, I guess - my area was around his apartment block, so I saw him often. He caught my eye once - talked to me. Tried to get me on side. Tried to get me to get out of the business, and find something else."   
  
"Something better..."   
  
"Yeah," I smiled. Christ, it _was_ hurting! And that was just talking about him...   
  
He caught my eye more 'n once, of course. Wufei Chang - Mr Care Extraordinaire. He worked on me, all right - especially once he saw who I was; where I stood in the management myself. But he never blamed me - he was never aggressive. That wasn't his way. He'd let you know what he thought, and what he thought of my job was that it was shit, and I should stop it. Stop it, and find something else.   
  
I was gonna do it, as well.   
  
I told Q I didn't have any friends then, but Wufei was the nearest I got. I learned that he had been looking for someone, but they weren't in that city anymore, and he was gonna move on. But then he watched some of the kids round his block, and he didn't turn that disgusted-but-blind eye to it all that other folks do. No - he wanted to do something about it.   
  
"He had something that I should have protected. I should have recognised the decency for what it was, and treasured it. Not shit on it." Like I did with Rik, I thought. Destined to fuck up whatever and whoever was good, and show the same, stupid response throughout my life...   
  
We hung around together for weeks - I still did some of my job, but I was easing myself out gradually, hoping they wouldn't notice I was moving on. Wufei was in some kinda talks with the cops - with the social services. I dunno - I'd have told him how fucking stupid he was, if he'd asked me. That nothing would change; that only the kids would suffer either way. And the kids themselves were getting a bit restless - I was losing control over 'em, I guess. I guess I'd have been dumped pretty soon, myself, as soon as the Controllers saw I wasn't delivering anymore.   
  
Wufei said he'd get me a job. Wufei liked me, I know - but he never made a move on me. It wasn't like that. Christ, I sorta wished it had been... I liked him in return. He was a damn good-looking guy. I wanted to give back whatever I could for his attention and care. And what else did I have to offer?   
  
"But then -?"   
  
It was another night when I'd been with Wufei, instead of on the street, fixing up appointments. A night like the other hundred-odd nights that I'd been Mr Big in the world of Bartered Bodies. I thought it was gonna end the same way - me rounding up the kids, collecting the money, crashing on my mattress and wondering when I could peel off enough to buy a fare to somewhere Wufei was going. Then...   
  
"This kid lurched out from nowhere -" We'd been laughing at my clumsy attempts to do up his winter coat for him - he had arms full of papers and files, and I was just glad to touch his warm body, his clean, comforting, civilised body with my thin fingers, trying to help him out in the cold night, to keep him warm. Then there was the flash of a blade, the cold slice into my back, even as I saw someone out of the corner of my eye and twisted out of reach. It was so cold I never felt the pain for a minute or so.   
  
"God, your back!" Trowa gasped. "The scar -! And he attacked Wufei as well...?"   
  
"Yeah," I said, harshly. "Knifed four times, one cut an artery, one half severed his neck. Blood everywhere. All over his new suit, and that damn coat - all over the sidewalk. All over _me_. He gargled a bit - it all bubbled out so damn fast I couldn't believe it. Only ever seen someone die from cold before. And once when I was new on the streets, I heard how Shad strangled a bony little kid who'd gone mad. But this was horrific. And by the time I'd started yelling for help, the blood had stopped flowing so fast, and he'd gone."   
  
No-one spoke.   
  
Except for me.   
  
"No last dying words or all that shit. Just shock and blood and mess." I turned away from my friends, because I couldn't trust the stinging in my eyes, and the disgust and horror I knew would be in their faces.   
  
"So - what about the boy with the knife? you say. He was rifling through Wufei's pockets when I recovered enough to grab him. I broke his wrist, probably his arm. But as soon as I turned back to Wufei, he ran, the little bastard. Paramedics were real quick, y'know, considering the neighbourhood... they patched me up in the van, and wanted to take me in for observation - and statements, of course - but I skipped as soon as we got to the hospital. I could see Wufei was off to a body bag. They wouldn't be patching _him_ up."   
  
"Duo... if we'd known..." Q is the only guy I've ever known who could sob and still look OK with it. Which he was doing, right now. Trowa's eyes were wide and fierce, but I was surprised to find that he didn't seem to be directing the anger at _me_.   
  
"You got out, then, Duo. Didn't you? That's when you came back here?"   
  
I didn't answer him directly. I was still away on that sidewalk. Weeping myself. "The wound - I just keep seeing the wound. Never seen anything like it."   
  
I let my head hang back. My eyes closed, and I wailed soundlessly against the world's injustice. It was vividly raw - the way I felt then. The stirrings of hope in amongst the cynicism and the sagging self-esteem. I was gonna do it right, this time, I'd told myself - another guy wanted to help me. I was gonna be a friend to him. I was gonna live up to what he wanted.   
  
But I never got the chance, did I?   
  
"Yeah, I got out then, Trow. I didn't have anything of my own, so I took a night's takings, and there was enough to get a coach fare across a coupla cities - to get back here. I wanted nothing more to do with it all. That world of pimps and that so-fucking-dangerous desire. It's the worst in men, Trow. The worst and the best - and the strongest. I fed it - fed it with my kids. With me. I despised the power it had - the power it still has."   
  
"Only in the wrong hands, Duo..."   
  
Why would I be interested in listening to him now? To me, the memory was of another person I'd destroyed - another life ruined -   
  
T's hand was on my shoulder, and he was none too gentle. "Duo, you're too harsh on yourself! I know what you're thinking, and you've got to snap out of it! What happened to Wufei - it was hideous, but it was a mugging; it was pure chance. How could it have been your fault?"   
  
I turned large eyes on to him, and from the way he flinched, I knew that my expression reflected the slide back to that world - it happened all too easily. My voice sounded frighteningly calm; it sounded like someone else's.   
  
"But you don't have all the facts, my dear T, do you? You should know that the guy who knifed Wufei... he was one of _my_ boys!   
  
"Baz was ill, he was mad - I dunno what he was. Dammit, there were times I nearly strangled the little bugger myself! He was no good on the street except for the simplest of errands - he hung around Shad when he saw who was really in charge, and I guess he found jobs for him, because _I_ couldn't. I should have run him out long before. I'd not seen him for days - I wasn't fucking _looking_ for him, to tell you the truth! I hoped he'd run off - even hoped he'd turn up in a gutter and he'd be no trouble to me anymore.   
  
"And so he turned up OK, didn't he? 'Praps he came looking for me, I dunno. Baz was so dumb he probably couldn't feed himself without help - he needed me, or someone, to keep him this side of lunacy. And instead he found someone who offered more. A watch and a wallet more - that was all."   
  
That was it - I'd had enough confession for the night. I threw off their touch and the cloying air of their concern, and I lurched towards the door, holding out my hands to keep them away from me. T and Q - great guys. Guys who'd found their best friend had been a pimp - had been the worst kind of parasite. Tomorrow I'd face them. Tomorrow they'd tell me to move out. But tonight I had demons to keep me company instead.   
  
"Offered more, that's what Wufei Chang did. It was just up to us whether we took it or not."   
  
*   
  
I lingered as long as I could outside the club. It was a coupla days after I'd spoken to the guys about Wufei, and my past life. A coupla days when I avoided Trowa and Quatre like I had the plague. A coupla days when the bruises had finally almost healed, and I could get about again without the inhibiting pain. And now I had to attend to some personal business.   
  
There was a fine sheen of rain spattering on my shoulders and head. I hadn't bothered with a coat. Damn, I remembered - but I hated the rain! It was early evening, and despite the grey clouds, there was still plenty of daylight. But I'd seen enough things happen in daylight to realise that was no particular protection.   
  
The club looked blank and harmless at this time. There were no guys on the door - just a weedy little management type. Even so, my ribs ached in memory. I clutched the daily paper in my hand.   
  
Finally, I marched up to the door and asked for Mr Yuy. I stood my ground when the Weed tried to tell me he didn't know anyone called that name. I know what I do with weeds, and it ain't anything to do with gardening.   
  
Heero was there. I knew he would be. Things were starting to click together in my mind. My angry mind.   
  
Weed made some mumbled call into his radio, and I stood for another ten minutes in the rain. He pulled back into the relative shelter of the doorway. I scorned it. Things had changed, y'see. For whole minutes at a time I slipped in and out of another world - a far less comfortable one. A world where rain was no kinda trouble at all.   
  
Heero came out, a few minutes after that. He stared at me, and I stared back.   
  
"Duo." He inclined his head in welcome, like he often had before. He was dressed in a full suit today - like working gear. He looked spectacular. It was obviously hand made - a soft, charcoal grey fabric that hung from his broad shoulders with perfect grace, and hugged his narrow waist and hips. The plain white shirt shone with an expensive glare that I'd never found in the stores myself. His tie was subtly and richly understated - silk, I expect. The damn clothes didn't matter, of course, because all I could think of was the body underneath, though I'd seen little enough of it.   
  
His eyes flared at the first sight of me, then settled back into a dark wariness. It had been a coupla days since we'd seen each other. Since I'd pushed him off and driven away. It'd been a coupla weeks since we'd last fucked. Did I _wish_ I could forget that particular statistic...   
  
"I knew him, Heero," I blurted out. I could feel trails of water running down my collar - the rain was getting heavier.   
  
He didn't answer - just waited for me to say more. His eyes were slightly hooded; they seemed to look straight through me, but it felt like they dragged my entrails as they went.   
  
"The guy who died. Peck, or whatever he may've been calling himself now. He worked here - but, of course, you know that already. I knew him before he beat up on me. Dammit, he's been a regular visitor to my whole life of being beaten up on!"   
  
Heero spoke at last. The rain was beginning to make sodden patches on his shoulders. "You're still talking away, Duo, aren't you? But it's OK, because I want you to talk to me. Yes, he was called Peck. He'd only worked here for a few weeks, as part of the security team - I didn't know him. But he's gone now, anyway. I assume that he beat up on someone else, and it was one too many for him. I don't know what happened - the police don't know. How do _you_ know - people like that?"   
  
I was suddenly, insanely angry. I was wet; I hurt all over; I wanted to hit the very man I wanted to caress. "I don't think it's me who should be answering questions, do you? Was he one of your guys, Heero? Who the fuck _are_ you to have such guys around you?"   
  
Weed was hovering in the background, and I saw Heero raise a hand and wave him back. There were a few people about, but the rain was sending them scurrying back to shelter and to home.   
  
"My guys?" His voice was cautious. Almost expressionless. But there was a spark in his eye, and it looked like he was in pain. "What are you saying?"   
  
"Don't fuck with me any more!" I hissed. "You move about here like you own the place. And when we've gone away from the club, I know of at least one occasion we've been followed. Probably by some of these guys."   
  
He stared. I tried not to think any of the water running down my face had the salt of tears. I was being caught up in something that was developing around me, too fast, too hidden. Too vague for me to catch it - to bring it under my control. I was so very, very _angry_!   
  
"Answer me!"   
  
He took a deep breath. "OK. You say I move about like I own the place - well, I do, in a way. I run this club, Duo. It's owned by my family - it's owned by my uncle. I have managers, but I'm essentially in charge. I never used to come here myself, but as you know, I have been visiting recently. And when I do, it seems - well, my uncle's men see a necessity to look after me."   
  
It explained a lot. It explained his familiarity with the place. The way that no-one ever questioned him. The fact that I'd never seen him pass money over the bar for anything.   
  
"His men?"   
  
He shrugged. That elegant, sensual movement that set up warning bells in my damp, shivering body. "They work for him. They look after the family."   
  
"Christ, Heero, it sounds like the mob! What other sort of rackets is he involved in?"   
  
He shook his head impatiently. He'd moved a little nearer me. "Don't be so melodramatic! He's just a businessman. And this is the only thing I know about - the only thing I do. It's just a nightclub, you see; it's nothing sinister. And the protection..." he sighed. "It's not what I _want_ , Duo! I don't need it, for God's sake, and I tell my uncle so. And you should _never_ have been threatened by any employee of ours. It's unforgivable. I've spoken to - to my uncle. It won't happen again."   
  
"Too fucking right it won't!" I gasped. "Damn guy's dead, now!" Rain ran into my mouth. I brushed the wet hair out of my eyes, angrily. "You know what Peck was into, Heero, before he was here - you _must_ do! And it was a hell of a lot more than _security_! What connection does it have with _you_?"   
  
"Come into the dry, Duo -"   
  
"Fuck off!" I looked into his face, blinking against the rain, and for the first time, I saw his confidence waver. That superb, sexy arrogance that had attracted me in the first place. Was that how I wanted to see Heero?   
  
"Why won't you listen to me, Duo? I don't know anything else about it. Is there something else bothering you?"   
  
I backed away, very slightly. I heard the squelch of a shallow puddle, as I stepped into it. He put out a hand to hold me; to help me. All I could see were his eyes. Bright; fevered; almost scared that I was moving away from him. I wanted him; oh by Christ, I wanted him!   
  
"Don't go, Duo. I don't want you to be scared off. It's the last thing I want. But you must tell me if there's anything else between us; anything that's troubling you."   
  
"Why?" I gasped. And his hand touched my arm. All I could feel was the wet fabric of my shirt; all I could feel was the heat of his body, flowing into mine.   
  
"I want you, Duo," he hissed. His face was close to me now. "I don't want any misunderstanding. And if you tell me everything, then I can protect you."   
  
I hit him, then. Or else, I tried to. I was prepared for a fight, this time; and Heero and I were more evenly matched. I'd had months of life on the streets as my training ground - there was no way I shouldn't have been able to lay him out. But he dodged, eyes widening sharply, and his hand came up with astonishing speed to catch mine.   
  
We leant into each other, arms straining against each other's lock. I tried with my other arm to get purchase around his waist - he gasped with the grip, because I'm deceptively strong, but he stood firm. His free hand pressed against my shoulder, putting hideous strain on my already bruised ribs.   
  
And the rain continued to pour down on us.   
  
It was all I could hear - _It won't happen again. I can protect you_.   
  
Heero - a pampered child, who had obviously never been crossed, never been refused anything. Who had wealth and power and people to watch over him. Who wanted me. Who didn't want me to leave him this evening. Who had no idea of my life, and what I'd lived through in the last years.   
  
" _Duo - please -_ "   
  
I was shocked. I didn't think I'd ever heard Heero use that word like that. 'Praps when I'd been at my most teasing with sucking him off; when I'd challenged him before he took me - held myself apart from him, even if it was only for brief, charged seconds. It had never been true begging; it would only have been a game - he knew I'd always surrender, and be glad to do so.   
  
But this didn't feel like a game anymore. I felt the energy drain from my body. I'd not seen this side of Heero before - the desperate, supplicant touch; the faint plea in his vibrant voice. My face was chilled from the rain, the skin aching with the tension - but I felt the soft heat of his mouth even before it touched me.   
  
He was damp all over as well; his face shining with the trail of raindrops; his hair was flattened to his head, and pasted over his forehead. I wanted to wipe it away - gently. I just wanted to touch him. To hold him that way. I accepted the kiss because - in all truth - it was my dearest wish.   
  
My arm relaxed, and I let him fold it down to my side. The hand around his waist became enfolding, rather than aggressive. I held him to me, wet cloth against sodden skin; I kissed him back fiercely, tongues battling inside our mouths, when we'd been almost fighting with fists a moment ago.   
  
"Relax, Duo, please. I want you!" The hiss was deep inside my head. My body was throbbing with the sudden remembrance of what I'd been missing. Of the touch of him.   
  
" _I want you_..." my voice was echoing. Or was it begging?   
  
"Come to my apartment."   
  
"What?" Had I heard right? Was the noise of the hammering rain confusing me?   
  
He scowled. His face was so close to mine that when he licked his tongue out of his mouth to catch the fall of drops beside his nose, he licked at my lips as well. I moaned.   
  
"You wanna fuck, Duo, don't you? And this is not the place or time to do it, even I can see that. Even though I wanna drop you to the sidewalk now and fuck your tight ass into the wet, slippery concrete..."   
  
His breath was heavy and a little hitched. His eyes were wild. I think I just stared.   
  
" _Christ, Duo_..." he hissed. "I want you now, and I don't like to wait, remember? Besides -" his laugh was small and tight - "I know how you hate the rain! Come with me..."   
  
His voice was insidious - our short, passionate tussling had exhausted me. He was tugging me with him, over to where he had his car, I guess. He kept his eyes on me, very close; like he was afraid I'd run. In the other direction. The arrogant smile was sliding back, like the first time; the possessive spark flared in his eyes. But there was that same hint of nerves that I saw earlier; he wasn't so sure of me, perhaps.   
  
Was I sure of myself?   
  
"... _now_ , Duo..."   
  
And I was clutching at his jacket, leaving creases that I knew the cleaners would struggle with, but just wanting to be up against him; to hold him.   
  
No-one followed us to the car. Weed seemed to have scuttled back indoors; there were no more of Heero's uncle's men to contend with that I could see. Heero pushed me into the passenger seat, my boots pooling water all over the thick carpet and brushed upholstery; his hands were up under my shirt, picking at my flesh like I was a gift; like he wanted to unwrap me. With a sharp, irritated gasp, he tore himself from me and swung round to the driver's seat.   
  
I coulda jumped out then, if I'd wanted to. Made my way home. Broken away from him.   
  
But what did I really care about guys following me, when I could follow Heero? 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Of course I knew the Royal Apartments. Just never actually got a dinner invitation there. Or any other invitation, for that matter!   
  
It was a damn smart building - only a few apartments to each floor, and no clutch of cheap grocery and pawnshops around the entrance. There was a reception desk, though there was no-one there at the moment, just a few glimmering CCTV screens. Heero strode through the empty, quiet lobby with easy familiarity; I tagged along, wondering if anyone'd want to search my pockets. The legacy of a misspent youth, eh?   
  
He started on me even in the elevator. His breathing had been getting heavier all the way here - his hand tight on my leg as he drove, fondling my inner thigh. Pinching at my skin, provocatively. I'm amazed we made it to the block at all. I think he would've jumped me at the last set of lights, but they changed too quickly for the chance. Or 'praps I was too damn wet for him to get a proper hold of me.   
  
I was wincing at the piped muzak in the elevator, and admiring the carpeting that was better quality than Q and T's bedroom, when he pushed hard on my shoulders so that I dropped to my knees. I somehow knew we were going to the top of the block - but I wasn't sure quite how far. I mean, the elevator moved slowly - but how long did we have for any fun and games?   
  
I got no chance to ask, because the noise of his opening zip rasped over the tuneless background music, and then my mouth was filled with his hard, erect, greedy cock. I sucked eagerly - even though his pants were damp from the rain, his skin was dry and soft inside the smooth cloth of his boxers, and the inside of my mouth was offering him a wet, hot sanctuary. He gasped with delight as I took him; as I licked fiercely at the threads along its side; as I dragged the sensitive tip in and out of my lips. His hands were grasping at my hair, even as my knees were cosseted by the thick carpet underneath.   
  
He'd obviously learned by now to enjoy my best work, though I was surprised at the speed at which I felt his excitement rising. He'd always shown great self-control, even at his most aroused, even as he fucked me some nights with the groans that told me he just couldn't wait any longer... Tonight, one hand tight in my hair, and the other clamped flat against the polished metal wall, he hiccuped softly, and thrust with abandon into me. As the elevator gave its quietly discreet 'ping' and ground to a halt on floor 12, his knees buckled slightly, he groaned, and he spewed his seed out into my waiting mouth.   
  
The doors opened. Thank God there was no-one waiting to go down! And no pun intended...   
  
Heero thrust himself back into his pants, pulling me to my feet and out of the elevator after him. I was a little over-excited myself. Threads of him were still in my mouth; it had been too long since I'd had that gourmet taste. When he spun me hard against the wall of the corridor, panting, and grinding his hips against my groin, I opened my mouth gladly and took in his thrusting tongue.   
  
He sucked on mine in return; he tasted every nook and cranny of the soft inside of my mouth. I was panting too, by now; and I'd have done it there and then, if he'd wanted. Pulled down my pants and let him fuck me hard against the wall, rocking more 'n a coupla those tasteful modern prints that adorned the corridor. They were looking down, I daresay, with artistic horror on our writhing bodies.   
  
But he broke away; held me at arms' length.   
  
"You're still wet," he hissed.   
  
Yeah, like I knew that. So was he. We'd stopped dripping wherever we went, but our clothes had been soaked, and were clinging to our bodies. Our hair wouldn't win any awards; I could feel the weight of my sodden braid tugging awkwardly at my scalp. His suit looked like he'd slept in it.   
  
His eyes raked me up and down, undressing me where I stood.   
  
"You need to get your clothes off. You got anything on under those pants, Duo?"   
  
For the last coupla times I'd met him, I'd worn no underwear. Call me an easy lay, OK? It's a fair comment. He stared at my crotch now, and I cursed the fact that the habit had stuck. He knew I was hard as a rock, chafing against the denim of my jeans, just from being a foot away from him.   
  
He didn't wait for any answer. He took my arm and tugged me away from the wall and round the corner towards the final door along the corridor. And as we stumbled on our way, he pulled my head to him, nipping at my mouth, thrusting his tongue into me. I grabbed at his shoulders to steady myself - he shrugged out of his suit jacket, and started fumbling at the buttons of my shirt. I bounced a coupla times off the wall, and when his hands slid into the waist of my jeans and started to tug them down, I nearly fell.   
  
"Wait -" I gasped, but then the cloth was pooled round my ankles, and I was hopping out of both boots and jeans, even as we reached the door. Surely this was his apartment? He reached a key out of his pants pocket, and slid it into the lock. But he didn't open the door. Instead, he turned and faced me, flattening himself against the smooth wood. His tie was crumpled and pulled loose from around his neck; some of his buttons were open and I could see the dusky skin gleaming through the damp fabric.   
  
"Get on your hands and knees," he gasped. "Face back up the corridor."   
  
I dropped to my knees on the corridor carpet, and stared back up the way we'd come, back towards the elevator. My ass was naked under my shirt, and sticking up at him. The skin was cold and still slightly damp, and I felt every goose bump individually. I knew my cock was singing the joys of being let out of its prison, swollen and throbbing as it was with anticipatory lust for Heero. I could feel his eyes on me; I knew that hungry stare well.   
  
I heard a click behind me, as he obviously twisted the key - I heard the soft whisper of well-oiled wood on thick carpet as the door slid open. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw him stepping back into the darkened hallway. He beckoned me in after him - still on my knees.   
  
Just as I clambered inelegantly back over the doorway, his hand on my butt brought me to a halt. I crouched there, half and half out of the apartment, seeing nothing except the co-ordinating carpet and the dried flower arrangement halfway up the corridor. And then his other hand slipped between my sweaty thighs and tugged them further open. My cock hung down, bobbing and dripping. And not with raindrops.   
  
"Whatever you want, Heero - just get the fuck on and do it..." I whimpered.   
  
He did. I felt the movement of his body, close to mine, as he obviously dropped to his knees behind me. I heard a rustle of cloth, and saw out of the corner of my eye his shirt thrown aside. His fingers were cold, and the flesh of his bare arm was damp on my thighs. He stroked across my buttocks and down between them, to tease at my opening. I think I clenched with the delighted shock; he laughed very softly.   
  
And then I felt the soft tickle of hair against my thigh, and his hot breath on my buttocks, and then the indescribable thrill of his wet, fierce tongue licking around me, pushing at me to get entrance. The clenching stopped at once and I opened like a morning flower. And the tongue slid on in, thrusting playfully into me, slicking its saliva all over me, and all _inside_ me.   
  
I held myself there - God knows how, when my legs were shaking and my arms buckled with the tension - as Heero slowly fucked me with his tongue. The door was ajar; my body was still half in the corridor. If anyone had come round that corner to another of the apartments, they'd have seen me, half naked and on my knees, with my discarded pants in a heap on the floor beside me. I was shuddering with the ecstasy, my head dipping up and down towards the floor; with nothing behind me but the hint of a shadow and a figure that may or may not have been clutching me round the waist and pushing me inexorably towards the brink of a consuming, wailing climax.   
  
" _Cold_..." he mumbled against my ass. " _Tastes like rain_..."   
  
It was the final straw. I lifted one straining arm off the floor, and grasped my cock. A coupla tugs, and the climax was racing to escape. Heero's tongue was faster and harder into my ass, and I bucked back against him, not caring if I hit him or not. My upper body stretched up as the waves ran through me, and I gulped down my scream as I came. Again and again, I spewed seed out over my hand, and my crumpled jeans underneath me. I couldn't feel Heero anymore; I couldn't hear anything anymore. Only the thrill through my own body, and the retching of my cock as it gave it all up for me.   
  
I fell to the floor on my elbows, unable to hold anything upright any more.   
  
  
*   
  
  
He pulled me and my clothing inside, and the door slid to a merciful close behind me. But I still wasn't going to be given the guided tour. I lay slumped against some rather attractively patterned wallpaper in his lobby, as my legs were pulled wide apart and his impatient hand came back to my opening.   
  
"Need you -"   
  
He knelt between my legs, and I saw that his chest was bare, and his pants were wide open. His cock reared out from his lap, well recovered from our antics in the elevator. He hauled my legs up off the floor and over the crook of his arms, and he leant into me, pressing his cock eagerly against me. I was wet from his saliva, but it felt like he'd prepared his cock as well - there was the smooth slickness of a lubricated condom, and the aggressive heat that was the inimitable calling card of Heero's shaft.   
  
I wriggled to get more comfortable, but I guess he thought I was wriggling away.   
  
"Don't fight it, Duo," he moaned. "I know you want it - you live for it. You want _me_. And I can give you everything you want!"   
  
Every passion I'd ever repressed was shrieking to be let out. And it was Heero who did that to me. Of course I wanted him.   
  
I reached for him, lifting my hips up, almost on to his lap and down on to his cock, impaling myself. He gasped; but I was beyond gasping.   
  
"Fuck me," I groaned. " _Now_!"   
  
  
*   
  
  
I woke in Heero's apartment. I woke suddenly, in the dark, so that at first I forgot where I was. I was full of a nameless fear, sitting bolt upright and tumbling the sheet from my body.   
  
Then I remembered. I remembered being fucked senseless by him; pounded against the wall and the floor until we'd both come again, and then some. I remembered us moaning into each other's ear; Heero's keening as he held me tight around the waist. My own groans as I gripped his soft, damp hair, stretching to plunder his mouth with my tongue, again and again.   
  
Then there'd been some vodka, though he didn't seem to drink much himself. And we needed some food - we went into his kitchen, although it was just to reach the phone and call for takeout. Somehow, between him hanging up the phone and me putting the menu down on the worktop, I found myself face down across the kitchen table, my pants lost again and my legs spread wide. Then there was the warmth of Heero's hips fitting snugly in between my thighs, the bright snap of another latex package, and the excitement as he thrust into me again. Damn table...the slim chrome legs may have been fashionable but they were ridiculously insubstantial; we rocked together fiercely, and they scraped across the designer tiles in accompaniment. Guess they don't make kitchen furniture suitable for the purpose we wanted...   
  
By the time the desk guy brought the food up, I was groaning loudly, clinging to the very edge of the table, and Heero was tensing for his climax. As he came, his head dipped to my shoulder, and his teeth marked me - I felt the sudden sharp pain as he bit and sucked. In seconds, I was hearing the angelic bells of my own next - and rather painful - climax, just as someone was knocking on the door and calling something about spring rolls and fried rice.   
  
I just about remembered the staggering tumble into bed. And a lot more aerobic exercise before we finally slept. Together.   
  
And now it was the small hours of early dawn - my eyes blinked, getting used to the dim light. There was some kind of outside lamp still alight that seeped through the thick blinds at his bedroom window. I could see low, minimalist pieces of furniture; a rag rug on the floor. A clock and telephone on a table, his side of the bed; a pile of used tissues and opened condom wrappers on the floor my side. I tipped my metaphorical hat to them, with a wry grin. I moved slightly, to get comfortable; I winced with stiffness and - I had to admit it - my sore ass. Being uke wasn't necessarily the most comfortable, long-term choice. I wondered if I'd ever suggest anything else to Heero Yuy.   
  
The room was cool, like only good air-conditioning can make it, and the sheet over my legs was thin and soft. I turned to see if he was beside me, and he was. Sprawled across the bed beside me, his sleeping head buried in the pillow. It was a bit of a surprise. But a joy as well - it was the first time I'd seen much more of his naked body than his mouth and cock. He was truly gorgeous, as I knew he'd be - broad, smooth torso; the slightest sheen of sweat dried on the tight muscles. The most perfectly pert ass I'd seen on a man in his early twenties, and long, supple legs. I knew, of course, what they could do - how they could pin me down to the floor; how they could press between my thighs, spreading me just as he wanted. I sat there, staring, wishing for him to turn over so that I could get a frontal view.   
  
He sighed, and rolled on to his back. The front was perfect, too. The silver chain gleamed dully around his neck. There was very little hair on his chest, framing quite large, dark nipples. I wanted, overwhelmingly, to lick at 'em. Great definition, like he worked out. I bet there was a gym in this building. Bony hips, and strong thighs; a dark bush at his groin, with a half erect cock nestling within it, soft with its morning flush.   
  
And then he was awake, and I was caught out.   
  
"Hi Duo..." he mumbled. "Don't say you gotta go. You usually do."   
  
I laughed a little. I knew what he meant, now, when he said I just fucked and ran. It's my nervousness! I wanted to say. My need to make the decision to go, before you make it for me. Before you tire of me.   
  
And maybe more than nervousness. Maybe some kinda self-preservation...   
  
"You look great," he smiled, sleepily. "The hair's fantastic." My braid had come seriously unravelled as we'd rolled about in the hallway last night. Heero had tugged it out of its binding, and so my hair had lain loose round my shoulders as I slept. He ran his fingers aimlessly through it now, gently tugging out a small tangle. "It feels great. All of you feels great. Wanna fuck?"   
  
His hand was very warm and it was teasing between my legs. I rolled over like a pet dog.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
I got up and dressed, at about ten o'clock. My shirt was dry now, though creased beyond recovery; my jeans were awkward to pull on, but I managed. I guessed they'd think I was ill if I didn't turn up for work. It's not like I let them down often - I was one of the most reliable workers they had. I padded to the kitchen in bare feet and made tea - the tea and the kettle were the only things I could find in the showroom kitchen. There were a coupla slices of bread, and some exotic jam in a cupboard, but nothing I fancied eating. The taste and imprint of Heero's cock was still in my mouth.   
  
He appeared in the doorway, smoothing his hair down. Smart pair of sweats. No shirt. I wanted to jump him there and then.   
  
"Not much I can do you for breakfast, Heero," I joked. "What do you offer guests?"   
  
"I don't have guests," he replied.   
  
Yo... I was struck silent for a while. I made him a cup, and passed it over the table. We sat down. We both stared, absentmindedly, at the corner of the table where we'd fucked last night. I reckoned I could see a stain from my cum - maybe it was just spilt tea from another time.   
  
"I wanna know more about you, Heero," I said, eventually.   
  
He was quiet for another few seconds. When he replied, his voice was calm in that expressionless way he was so good at. "That's not information I share easily, Duo. You don't need to know anything else, really. You know what I do. What I'm like."   
  
"I want you to tell me about Peck." Christ, I knew I was pushing my luck - I didn't know what was driving me on. "How long had that guy worked for your uncle?"   
  
"Peck?" He shook his head slightly, as if he didn't know what I was talking about. "Ah - him. I didn't know him, I told you. I don't hire the men."   
  
"How did Peck get to be working here? Do you know anything about a guy called Shad?"   
  
"Shad...?" His eyes were hooded. His hands shook slightly. I think I was upsetting him - the man I thought was always in control. "You mean one of the men? I don't know all their names..."   
  
"Heero, don't you ask what's going on? OK, so you run a club - but is your uncle into anything else?"   
  
"Shut up, Duo," he said. His voice was tight. He stood, suddenly. "This is unacceptable. Why are you harassing my uncle's business like this? What has it to do with you?" He paused, suddenly, as if a thought struck him. Damn same thought struck me at the same time, but it was too late to backtrack.   
  
"What do _you_ know about it all, Duo? Seems that you know more about these damn guys than I do - yet you go on about my uncle..."   
  
"Heero..." I began a feeble enough protest. Things weren't going well. "I just know what sort of guys these are. Trust me on this. But I don't know if your uncle does. If _you_ do."   
  
He stared at me. I could see his chest heaving slightly too much for normal breathing.   
  
"Please..." I said, rather desperately. "I knew Peck before, y'know? Other side of the state. He ran a racket for a guy called Shad - drugs, hookers - whatever. I don't know how Peck turned up here."   
  
"You knew him? Does that mean you worked for him?"   
  
There was no accusation in Heero's voice, but I winced.   
  
"Tell me, Duo." Just for that moment, I thought that I heard the power that he must use with staff or people to do with the club. His voice was strong as always, but it had a sharp vibrancy that made me want to do exactly what he said. To obey him. And not just in sexual matters, when I was already more than halfway willing...   
  
I sighed. "So OK. I worked for Peck, once - and then Shad himself. Not here - in the next city, up north. But I left it all, and came back here because my friends were here..."   
  
"You were a courier?" His voice was low, and still expressionless.   
  
"Well, at first I was. But then I got - I dunno - _promoted_ , I s'pose some sicko might call it. I ran the kids. The young ones; the green ones. The barely-this-side-of-psychosis ones." The gaunt, fevered face of Baz flashed across my mind, and the scar on my back throbbed.   
  
"You were a pimp, for this guy Shad...I see."   
  
"No, you fucking don't!" I shouted. "That's all behind me now! I got out, and I'm damn glad I did, and I don't wanna get drawn back down into all that again! I'm gonna make something other than a sewer of my life -!"   
  
Heero sighed. He'd not moved throughout all my explanations. Now he raised a hand, very slightly, as if to appease me. "It doesn't matter to me, Duo. What you did. What you were. What you were into..."   
  
"Well, it fucking matters to _me_ , OK? And what about _you_? Is your fucking uncle into all that, too? Why else would Peck turn up on his payroll? 'Praps Shad's here, too, doing what he's best at; distributing death and misery in tablet form to all who'll take it; fucking up lost little kids, selling 'em to whatever sick fuck's got the cash -" I was swearing far,   
_far_ too much.   
  
"Duo - listen to me -"   
  
"No, _you_ listen to _me_!" I was yelling now. God help the neighbours. "You tell me what's going on with this _family business_! Tell me _something_ about you, something I can't fit on the side of a cereal box! How much do you know? How much do you get involved with? Why aren't you bothered; are you so damn comfortable here that you don't question where the fucking money comes from for it all?"   
  
Heero's mouth opened; he looked shocked. I never let him reply. I gripped the side of the table and leant towards him, menacingly.   
  
"Who hired Peck? Why? Is Shad here somewhere, too? Is he still running his own little empire - still got kids, whoring for him? Does he tell you about that time? Does he mention a guy called Wufei Chang?"   
  
"Christ, Duo, that's enough!" Heero grasped at my wrist, and I'd never known such sudden, shocking pain. It felt like his fingers broke through my skin. But it had the right effect - it shut me up; it halted my growing hysteria.   
  
We stared at each other. My hair fell down on my flushed forehead; my chest was heaving with the agony of my memories and the fury I felt because they were returning. I wasn't even sure anymore if it was anything to do with Heero, or not. I was absorbed in my own horror.   
  
Maybe he saw my breath slowing. Maybe he felt my muscles relaxing. But he let go of my wrist, and I resisted the urge to wince, and rub at the red weals there.   
  
"Sorry," I gasped, not sure if I wanted to be apologising. Or what I was apologising for. "So that's that, then! We all know I'm the talker, eh? Not you - God forbid, not _you_...I'm OK for a fuck, but nothing more. Praps your guys had it right; it's better I leave you well alone -"   
  
He caught my arm, even as I drew away. He was gentler this time, though not much.   
  
"No!"   
  
"Dammit, Heero, let me go -"   
  
He didn't. Instead, he stood up, and drew me nearer to him. His mouth pressed firmly on to mine. I accepted it, my dry lips soaking up the moisture from him - it was rich, and the flicker of desire in the pit of my stomach had been heightened by my passionate outburst. Despite my anger and confusion, I wanted nothing more than to thrust my tongue back into his mouth...   
  
He pulled away first, leaving my lips quivering, searching for his; reaching shamelessly for him.   
  
"I never met anyone like you, Duo."   
  
"Yeah, right..."   
  
"No, you'll listen to _me_ now!" He gripped the back of his chair. His voice was very harsh, and I surrendered a little. "That night at the club - when I first saw you. I wasn't looking for anyone, y'know? I was just looking out for the club; my manager was away, and someone needed to be there. And then I saw _you_."   
  
I was silent. It was a revelation, hearing him talk. What was he trying to say? Did I believe him?   
  
"Yes, I know," he growled. He could see the taint of cynicism on my face. "You'd believe that I cruise my own club every weekend. That I call partners to me every night, to fuck in some dim, silent alleyway, with barely an exchange of names." It was a frighteningly accurate description of that night - of my opinion of that night. "I won't deny it, Duo - I don't hold back when I want something. Some _one_. And I am rarely refused. But that's not what I was seeking - not that night. Did you see me with anyone?"   
  
No, I thought.   
  
"Believe me, I could have had company several times over." I believed it, because I'd been amazed at the time that he was alone. That he'd beckoned to _me_. "I have always had choice, Duo... plenty of choice, and willing players for whatever game I suggest. But you appeared at the other end of the bar and that was it. I had to have _you_. I was due to sign in the temporary manager, and then go to some party or other. Or go home, which was looking more likely."   
  
"You were bored of the evening, then?" Had I just been a diversion?   
  
"I was," he replied, his voice level. Only the flashing, narrowed eyes gave away a hint of other emotion. "But you changed that. Something in you challenged me. It's not something I'm - _used_ to. I wanted to know you - I wanted to find out about you."   
  
"You wanted to fuck me," I ground out.   
  
"Yes." He just wasn't fazed - whatever sarcasm I threw at him. "And you wanted me to, didn't you? I saw that in you, Duo. But that's what attracted me - not just the desire in you; but the passion barely held in check. The need. The self-control that you must have had, to act as a different person other than the one you sleep with at night."   
  
" _Shit_ ," I whispered. I felt as if I'd been laid bare before him - and far more than physically.   
  
"Don't pull away from me now, Duo. Don't let this strange obsession you have spoil things. Each time I see you, I feel... it's different." He shook his head, a little impatiently. Impatient with himself, I think, not me. "Remember how good we are - how much we pleasure each other. I - I don't have that from anyone else. I never have had."   
  
"No guests, Heero?" I looked round the sparse apartment. Anywhere, rather than at those intense eyes. "No lovers?"   
  
"Yeah, there have been lovers," he smiled back. "What do _you_ think? But not here. I like my sex fast, immediate, and sometimes dangerous. There's an added excitement to creative locations, don't you agree? But I don't invite people back here. At all."   
  
There was something more here - we weren't just talking about lovers. There was little enough evidence of Heero's personal tastes and belongings in this apartment, let alone the influences of anyone else. I'd joked once, asking if he had friends. 'Praps now I had my answer.   
  
"You don't let people in..." I whispered.   
  
"No, I don't. But I will for you. I'll fight for _you_ , Duo. I'll fight to have you, for as long as I can..."   
  
His hand slid inside my shirt. It was a shock to realise how close he'd come to me, while we'd been talking. While I'd been listening, fascinated, to his deep, rich voice. Talking about himself in a way I'd never heard before.   
  
"There are still bruises on you," he murmured. There was a strange tone to his voice. He nipped gently at my neck.   
  
"They're healing fine," I replied. My throat was constricting - I knew he was distracting me. His fingers were travelling gently around my waist. Probing at the flesh; kneading it. His fingertips were rough yet smooth at the same time.   
  
"And this? Is this from the beating as well?"   
  
His hand had paused, the fingers tracing out the long, jagged mark of my knife scar. It ran from just under my ribs at the front to a point above my waist at the back. Not more than seven, eight inches - but the skin was still vibrant red as it healed; the marks of the stitches were still to be seen.   
  
It had been a long time since I'd been fully naked in front of anyone. And not since the stabbing. Somehow, it had never occurred to me that, of course, he'd see it. We'd slept together, hadn't we?   
  
"Duo, what is it?" he breathed into my neck. I was trembling very slightly. "Is this something to do with your questions? With your obsession with my uncle's men? Did one of them hurt you before?"   
  
"Leave it!" I snapped. "I don't talk about it -"   
  
He wanted to take me again, I could tell. I could feel his breath, coarse on my cheek; the hot, bulging flesh at his groin. But I didn't think that was gonna be the way - not now. Not yet.   
  
I reached for my socks, tumbled in two small piles by a deep, leather couch in the lounge, and next minute I was laid out on my back on it, and he was kissing me fiercely. I wasn't against it, in principle, y'know - he still didn't have a shirt on, and my whole body was responding in some kinda fascination with that smooth, dusky skin... But when he ran his hand into my jeans and flipped the button open, I flinched. My damn ass was so sore, I was scared I'd not be able to work all week, let alone go back tomorrow. I'd be walking like John Wayne, and trying to explain _that_ to the other lusty, very hetero guys...   
  
He took note of my reaction - that was another surprise. He withdrew his hand, and he just kissed me, long and hard, until I could feel both our hearts hammering in our heaving chests. Then he drew his mouth away, saliva trails drifting a silver thread between our faces. He sat back, and sighed. His lips were moist and plump; they shone an invitation that my cock thought I was mad to refuse.   
  
"You taste so good, Duo. I'm gonna shower now - what about you join me?"   
  
My head swam. What a vision that conjured up! I must get back to the apartment, I thought, in some panic - call in sick or something... I felt pretty sick, in all honesty. Sick, and thrilled at the same time.   
  
"No, Heero."   
  
He stared at me, as I clambered off the couch, resisting the urge to adjust my groin inside my jeans. I put on the socks, and scrambled under the furniture for my boots.   
  
"Duo... you'll remember what I said, won't you? I - don't say that sort of thing every day, that - sort of -"   
  
"I know," I replied. "I understand."   
  
"Go, then. It's fine. I'll see you again soon."   
  
I paused at the door. I felt I had to say something else, because I wasn't sure where I'd last left my confused, anguished thoughts. Somewhere down inside my pants, and that wasn't necessarily the right place at the moment...   
  
"Heero - I _will_ find out what's going on."   
  
"Sure," he smiled slightly. The flash in his eyes spun in my head. He stood up and faced me; still half-dressed. Very assured, very calm. And very damn handsome.   
  
"You..." This was gonna sound so ridiculous... "Heero...You will be careful, won't you?"   
  
"You're being melodramatic again, Duo. Of course I will!" He laughed, lightly. His hand was wavering at his side - as if he needed to touch something to anchor himself. "But must you go straight away? Let's eat something - let's go back to bed -"   
  
Oh, _Christ_ , I groaned. I had to go - I could feel my irresponsible body responding to him again. I mustered up a grin, evaded his outstretched hand before it reached me, and I left the apartment. He didn't follow me.   
  
The elevator crawled all the way down to the lobby; I swore I could smell Heero's seed in the claustrophobic air of it. It was a heady, erotic thing. I strode out of the building as confidently I could. The temptation to flip a finger at the desk guy as I left was strong; but I resisted.   
  
I went back to Trowa and Quatre's apartment. Where else did I have to go?   
  
*   
  
I heard Trowa and Quatre coming back home, just as I was ramming my last pair of boxers down the side of my bag. They'd been out when I got back, which was fine by me. I'd washed, body and hair, and dressed in comfortable T-shirt and sweats. I'd called work and made my excuses. Then I'd packed up my pitiful wardrobe, and a coupla personal items. I was sure the guys would let me come back and pick anything else up later.   
  
I'd thought I might just be gone by the time they got back, but never mind. I probably owed 'em for some food this week, anyway, so it was better I settled up before I went. I wondered where I'd left my wallet, patting around my pockets to find it...   
  
"What the hell are you doing, Duo?"   
  
Fuck - Trowa at his most assertive. Standing in my door. Well - the soon-not-to-be-my-door. It'd be their spare room again, like it was before I came back and disturbed their life all over.   
  
"Don't make a fuss, T. I'll pay what housekeeping I owe, then if I can just get going, there's a room going at the same place as one of the guys at work, I can bed down there for a coupla nights. Then I'll look for my own place, and I'll come back and collect anything else. While you're at work, if you like -"   
  
"No, you won't," he replied. He looked a little shocked.   
  
"Look, please, I know I deserve the hassle, but just let me go quietly -"   
  
"Go?" Now there was Q in the doorway as well. I'd have to be a damn shadow to get out between the pair of 'em. I was trapped here. I sighed; were they looking for some kinda fight?   
  
"You can't go anywhere yet!" snapped Quatre. "The food's on the table, and I only buy the sticky BBQ-sauce spare ribs for you, neither of us likes 'em -!"   
  
"Christ, Q!" I spluttered. "I'm happy to be thrown out, but don't expect me to eat a hearty meal before I go! Stick 'em in a bag, and I'll take 'em with me, if you're that anally retentive to care either way -"   
  
"What's he talking about, Trowa?" Q had turned to T, and there was genuine surprise on his face. "Thrown out? I thought we were having supper then watching that sea-battle movie...?"   
  
"He's not going anywhere, period," said Trowa, in that quiet, firm voice that I reckon he uses at work, that they can hear over the thrust of many a jet engine. He stared at me. "You're not going anywhere, Duo. Well - only if you want to! But we're not throwing you out. Jeez, why would we do that? You're our friend - we like you here -"   
  
"Trow certainly does! He watches you in the shower, y'know," grumbled Quatre, but there was a wicked smirk on his face.   
  
"Yeah..." grinned T back at him. "And don't you just _rise_ to the bait, every time...!" His fingers reached out, and ghosted over Q's groin. There was unambiguous, lustful greed in their expressions, and I envied them for their devotion - but they still weren't getting out of my way.   
  
"I'm not what you thought, guys -" I began. I was confused - I'd steeled myself to leave them. I wasn't sure what was happening here. "All that stuff, about what I used to do... I can't expect you to accept me the same way. I've fucked up my life ever since Rik, and I need to get outta here and sort things out for myself."   
  
"Ahh, shut up, Duo," announced Q, quite cheerfully. "We know who you are, and we say that what's past is past. You're no different today than you were then. Just a bit taller, and with an attractive muscle definition that I can't, unfortunately, compete with." He smirked, to show it was a joke. "Just come 'n eat, and keep T company through the movie. Then you can put all those damn things back in your drawers and take an early night, so's I can drag Trowa to bed and screw his provocative little brains out..."   
  
"Not so little, you damn bimbo," growled T in response.   
  
I stood there, as they moved away from the door and back to the lounge, laughing, and gasping dirty little promises into each other's ears that I doubted would wait to be honoured until after the movie. My boxers were still in my hand. I was more than a little stunned.   
  
T stuck his head back round the door, and his expression was serious now. "We meant it, Duo. We want you to stay. This is your home, now."   
  
"What happened -"   
  
"Drop it," he said, firmly but not unkindly. "Move on. We know your life now, and it's good. It's sound. You always were, Duo. We've all come different routes - still got some more to take. And we'll watch over each other, OK?"   
  
"...but not in the shower!..." came a mournful wail from the lounge, and with a rueful grin, Trowa's head dipped back out.   
  
  
*   
  
After I'd demolished the ribs with a - not unsurprisingly - healthy appetite, I took the plates out, with Trowa following. Q was struggling with a pile of DVDs, and discarding them across the couch as he searched for the right one. Trowa fetched out the dessert for us, but he paused as he reached the kitchen door, about to take it through.   
  
"I asked at work about that guy," murmured Trowa. He looked uncertain - as if he weren't sure if it would upset me.   
  
"That guy?"   
  
"Peck - the one who was found dead. Are you angry?"   
  
"No..." I said, slowly. "What did you find out?" Trowa had a bunch of contacts through work, in civilian life; in the military; in the police... his sources of information were deeply in the know, and usually very accurate.   
  
"They knew nothing about him, or this Shad. But one guy had heard about the - about the attack on Wufei Chang..."   
  
"Murder."   
  
"Yeah - the murder. My friend has a relative in the force, across state. They reckoned it was wrapped up with the whole gang situation - like you told us about. The organisation over there is very strong; there's been trouble for years. It's a family-run thing; your Mr K has representation in every kind of business there."   
  
I felt cold, suddenly. Though the apartment was warm enough. "But Wufei was nothing to do with it..."   
  
"No, I know. No-one said he was. But they think he probably got in the way. He was talking to the police about the situation with the kids. He meddled..."   
  
Was that what they called it? I thought, sadly. Saving some kids from tyre-track arms and hideous sexually transmitted diseases? From illegal abortions - from pathetic, doomed little street crimes? From broken limbs and cold, sad little deaths...?   
  
"So - maybe not just a mugging?" My voice was very low. Wary.   
  
"No, maybe not. How are you with that, Duo?" His voice was tentative, but gentle on me.   
  
"I dunno..." I murmured. What did this all mean?   
  
"And..." T still stood poised in the doorway, the Ben  & Jerry's in his hand.   
  
"And?"   
  
"It's continued, since then, Duo. And escalated recently. More violence - more killings. There are stories of a young kid run amok; it made me think of your own story. It all might have come across as random, drug-related cases - but there's been a pattern to the choice of victims. It's been men prominent in the criminal world - gang lieutenants. Drug dealers. It's all happening up north - in K's territory. But there's concern that it's being initiated from over here; in this city."   
  
"How -?"   
  
T shrugged. "They don't know exactly who _or_ how. But there's a branch of K's family that split away years ago - and the police think they came here. To this city. And set up their own organisation. There's never been much evidence here of the same sort of organised, criminal activity as K's - but now there's speculation that the family are somehow moving together. That one side may be trying to take over the whole thing. That the killings may be the beginning of a family feud - a damn dangerous one."   
  
Another branch of K's family...was that why Peck turned up here? I thought.   
  
The second thought came hard and fast on its heels; working for Heero's uncle? What sorta sick coincidence was _that_?   
  
T looked uneasy; like he regretted talking to me. But I would've told him not to be so stupid - I've never said there's any pain in knowledge. Just in ignorance.   
  
"No-one can catch the killer, it seems - no-one ever seems to see this boy. They're thinking now that he doesn't exist - that it's some kind of urban myth..." He smiled at me, but he knew now that neither of us believed that. "Anyway, there's some sympathy with letting the mob guys fight it out between each other, if that's all it is - unless it threatens to spill over into civilian life."   
  
I knew that Baz existed. Or had done, months ago. Was he still being used? I thought. He was always fast, like me. Fast; and possessed of an acute sense of self-preservation that had always saved him from being caught and blamed for anything he did wrong. Despite his dangerously low IQ. He'd sneaked past _me_ enough times... It was a shocking thought, but I wasn't, perhaps, as shocked as I should be. Was _he_ still around as well?   
  
Wufei was suddenly very sharp in my memory - I could almost hear his voice in the room. Smiling at me - grappling with those files. And then the streak of death and decay that was Baz...   
  
"Don't they have -" my voice stuck in my throat. "Don't they have any idea who's behind it, here in this city?" It was the sort of thing that Shad would have taken on - positively enjoyed. And Baz had been his little gofer for a long time. But I didn't even know that Shad was around - I'd only seen Peck. I had no other evidence, except for a mind that was leaping suspicions from one to two to twenty...   
  
And considering where it all ended up, I wasn't sure I wanted to think about it.   
  
"No idea yet," replied T. He peered at my face, and I hoped it hadn't gone too pale. "Duo..."   
  
I nodded to him. I couldn't trust words.   
  
"I don't know if it's reaching back out for you, Duo. Your life in the other city. Your other life. It would be damned unfair, wouldn't it? But don't let it, OK? And keep away from - from anyone who might be involved. Who might take you back to that world..."   
  
My friends were something else. Never once had T mentioned either Heero's name, or asked for the connection between the dead man and my beating. Or with my lover. Or any other awkward question that he had every right to raise.   
  
"OK, T," I said. The voice that came from my mouth was strange and echoed in the kitchen. "Sure. As if I'd want to lose myself back to that now, eh?"   
  
As if.... 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

It was Quatre's birthday - Trowa'd been preparing a party for weeks, but somehow I'd forgotten it all, in amongst the dramas of my own life. Great friend I am, eh?   
  
It had been just a week since I'd nearly left. Things had settled back well between the three of us, and I'd finally convinced myself that they genuinely didn't despise me for my aberrant life over the last coupla years. I mean - I did myself, but that was another matter.   
  
Q and Trowa had drunk champagne cocktails into the night, as it was the actual birthday _day_. I'd retired relatively early, but I hadn't been able to sleep. Then there'd been a lot of merry sniggering and bouncing off walls as they'd made their way to bed. When the thumping of their bed against the wall had got too noisy, I'd got up from my own room, and gone to make a hot drink. I didn't begrudge them a single second of their blissful, lust-filled love. I hope the rest of the block didn't either, as a coupla Q's yells had a fine resonance that could probably have carried miles.   
  
No - I sat and watched some old movie, and smiled for the guys, and their easy, supportive friendship. Without which I would've been lost. When I finished the drink, and the movie buzzed out to a predictable climax, and I started to feel drowsy again... well, I couldn't help myself; I slid a warm hand into my sleep shorts and fondled myself. To help me sleep, I told myself. But if I were honest, it was to soothe the vision of Heero Yuy that disturbed my every waking thought; it looked like it was affecting my sleep as well. I hadn't seen him since I left his apartment, a week ago. Seven days. Seven nights...I shut my eyes, seeing him laid out in his bed beside me that morning; the naked, smouldering skin; the warm dips and peaks of his back and buttocks. The supple movement of his body as the muscles bunched and lifted him up, to lean over me. The wicked glint of the tiny stud in his ear. The moist sheen on his lips as they nipped at my mouth - the harsh knee between my thighs, pushing them apart. The smell of him; the smell of his cologne, his hair, his sweat, his flesh...   
  
I started to pump myself a little harder. I ached from deep inside. I didn't know an ache could be so fucking deep.   
  
His vision smiled at me, eyes alight with desire for me. I could see his dark, soft hair - feel the skin drawn tightly over his hips as I gripped them to me. His voice murmured to me; his tongue licked seductively at my neck. I felt a twinge from the tooth marks in my shoulder, from our last time together.   
  
I was panting; my hand flew up and down my cock. I had to relieve the agony...   
  
I slid my other hand down under my ass - I probed quickly for my entrance. It blossomed open for me, and I slid a coupla fingers in. I teased at myself as I pumped - I wasn't gonna last much longer. My hallucination was grinning at my abandonment - he was watching me playing with myself, racing towards climax, knowing he'd been responsible. Heero's voice hissed crude words in my ear; Heero's hands were guiding my hands; Heero's cock was warm and thick, and oozing pre-cum on my thigh, and it was nudging at my hole, demanding to come in -   
  
I came then, with a gulp and a quickly swallowed sob. My body arched up off the couch, and the cum pumped out of me and over my hand. My climax was so intense that the TV screen blurred in front of me, and tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. My limbs shuddered - I sank back down on the cushions, and for several minutes, I couldn't hear anything over the deafening hammering of my heart.   
  
I was exhausted, and physically sated for the moment. I didn't want to think about it any further. I mopped most of the mess off me with some of the cocktail napkins that were still scattered on the table. Then I just pulled one of the throws off the armchair over me, and slid into a few hours of oblivious sleep.   
  
*   
  
The next morning, Trowa sidled into the kitchen, looking a little flushed, his hair awry. He yawned a greeting to me, and then groaned a little.   
  
"Hung over?" I grinned.   
  
He ignored me pointedly, which confirmed it. "We've got a party planned at the Club Underground tonight," he murmured. "I just wanted to check that you'd be OK with that. It's Q's favourite place at the moment."   
  
"Of course I'm OK," I replied. My face was expressionless.   
  
"I don't know..." mused T, trying to read me. Many have tried in the past, and failed. He's one of the more perceptive ones, I admit. "I know this thing you have with Heero Yuy - it seems rather volatile... I don't want you to be embarrassed or uncomfortable there. But we want you with us - I want you to know that."   
  
"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. "I'm fine with Heero. And anyway, he might not be there." We smiled at each other, wryly. We both knew that was nonsense. I had told T that Heero ran the club, and he'd seemed less than surprised. He held a lot of secrets in his head, at the best of times. What he didn't know, he usually guessed. I was grateful for whatever he shared with me.   
  
We bustled quietly about the kitchen, fixing breakfast. Quatre hadn't surfaced, and I knew T would take his breakfast to him in bed. Perks of a birthday, I guess! I hadn't celebrated mine in any way for three years now.   
  
"Duo..."   
  
"Uh-huh?"   
  
"Did you find anything useful from the police library?"   
  
I smiled, impressed despite myself. "You psychic, Trow? Or stalking me?"   
  
He grinned. "Neither, and you know it. But I have a friend there, Anna. She told me a guy like you had been in, asking about stories on mob activity in the city over the last year. Well, what she actually said was that there was a guy with a long braid, and a cute ass, and eyes that made her want to take off several items of clothing -"   
  
"She didn't!" I gasped, bright red.   
  
"- and I guessed she meant you! Then you dug out my visitor's pass, that I appear to have lent you some time, and she knew we were friends."   
  
I was even redder, if possible. "Trow, look, I'm sorry, I was gonna put it back before you even noticed -"   
  
He waved my sputtering away. "It doesn't matter - I'd have helped you there if you'd asked. Just ask in future, OK?" I nodded, a little in awe of him. "And did you find anything?"   
  
"Just more stories on the family connection you told me about. There were two branches of K's family, but they fell out, and separated to run their own organisations. Mr K's had the cherry pick of the police's attention - he's been active for years in all kinda rackets. Stayed just this side of prosecution. Only just. And that's because any violence has been relatively modest... until now. There's been a sudden increase in activity over the last few months."   
  
Again, the irony wasn't lost on me. Christ, I'd run away from one organisation, and straight into the backyard of another. Maybe even closer than that. They say that fact is stranger than fiction...   
  
"Any idea why?"   
  
"Nah. Yeah. I dunno." I tsked with frustration. "I just wonder if it's connected with that guy Peck from my old gang, turning up here, apparently changing masters. Maybe he was working for someone here - someone who's the other half of the family jigsaw. Someone who's looking to bring both branches of the family under his control."   
  
"A Controller?"   
  
"Something more 'n that, T. Maybe the guy above the Controllers. Above the Pecks and the Shads of this world."   
  
Trowa was gazing at me. "Any clues on that?" He could see I wasn't catching his eye.   
  
"None," I replied, steadily. I doubted he knew any more than I did - but he was even more capable than I was of putting two and two together and making a balance sheet. "Police are still investigating. That's all they say. There's not been enough going on here for them to have any definitive data on a 'boss' - we're not in the same criminal league as Mr K, it seems, for which we should all be damn grateful, I guess. He's a blood relative of K's, that's all they know. But no-one talks about him here - no-one knows a real name. In the reports, they just call him - Mr Y. It's a sorta sick pun on Mr K, I guess - that's cops for you; love their initials..."   
  
"Y?" murmured Trowa. In his mouth, the single letter rolled almost into a name. And he damn well knew it did.   
  
There was silence for a long time. Then there came a call from the bedroom down the hall - Q was getting hungry. For what, I could only guess, but hopefully the toast that T had in his hand would suffice for the moment. It effectively broke the tension in the kitchen, and Trowa smiled ruefully.   
  
"Gotta feed the Crown Prince! Why don't I introduce you later to a guy I know in Vice, see if he has anything else? We're not out to the party until late tonight. Though he may want any information you find in return - you know that?"   
  
"Yeah," I agreed, eagerly. I wanted to be doing something - to be active. To blot out the confusion in my mind. "Thanks! You want me to bring the jam for that?"   
  
*   
  
The club was packed, even though it was only a Friday night. Q looked fantastic in black latex, as outrageous as befitted the star guest, and the whole place seemed to be filled with his friends and admirers. Takings were gonna be good tonight. I couldn't help but think that Heero would be pleased.   
  
"Damn head won't fit through the door after tonight," growled Trowa, watching as his lover slapped palms and hugged friends, and accepted total adulation as his due. Quatre's face shone with pleasure; his hair was almost white blond, especially against his outfit, and his tall, slim frame slipped across the dance floor like mercury unleashed. But Trowa's complaint was indulgent. I had to admit, they seemed to have found the perfect balance in their relationship; Q was the extrovert, demanding one, whilst T was the calm, steady support.   
  
I wondered where it all went wrong with me and Heero - sometimes it felt like we were two stags, fighting for the same territory. Too evenly matched, and both of us too arrogant in our own way, to allow the other much leeway.   
  
No future for us, I thought. And not for the first time. I filed the thought away in the 'Ignore-for-as-long-as-possible' drawer of my mind.   
  
Trowa was dragged off by Q to meet some new acquaintances, who all seemed to be sharing the same strip of yellow feathers as skirts - girls and boys alike, y'know - and I turned back to the bar, to try to hide myself before Q thought I needed to be that sociable as well. I thought I might develop an allergy to feathers...   
  
"Duo."   
  
Heero's voice. Of course. It was a statement, in the low, sexy timbre that reverberated through my nerve endings. But enough of a statement to carry a conversation. He might ask where I'd been. Why I hadn't been to the club. Why I hadn't been to his apartment, 'praps, though I'd never have ventured there without invitation. Christ, I'd learned that much about him!   
  
I wasn't gonna tell him I'd been meeting T's friends in the police. And then I'd begun talking to guys on the street, calling on the language and demeanour that had been so familiar to me in my previous life. Trying to find out who was running this city - who was head of the 'family' here. Was there really a 'Mr Y'? Who was he? And was he really connected with Mr K; and therefore with the old life that still haunted me?   
  
Yeah, I was doing my own, modest investigation. I told myself; just to confirm things, y'know? 'Praps to help Trow's friend in Vice - make my contribution to law and order. But who was I kidding? Underlying it all, I had theories of my own that were seeping through my mind like rich red wine staining a white cloth. Irreparably.   
  
I turned slowly, prepared for the physical impact of seeing Heero again.   
  
Damn fool I am, as always!   
  
I gazed into his face, and my mouth dried instantaneously. His eyes were wide, and surprisingly bright - he looked delighted to see me. His mouth was slightly parted - I could see the gleam of teeth in the swirling light show that surrounded the bar area. He wore the same gold shirt that I'd first seen him in; the stud in his ear tonight was a small jewel. His skin looked flushed and healthy. He exuded confidence and control, and sexuality. He shone out from everyone else - there was no other way to describe it.   
  
"Hi, Heero."   
  
One thing I was learning to admire about Heero was his disdain for small talk. He didn't scorn such a banal welcome from me - he acted as if he expected it. There was the usual nod of his head, but tonight he also smiled a little, almost as if the pleasure was trying to bubble out of him, and he was reigning it back in. I felt an answering excitement. Things changed every time I saw him - my feelings developed in an alarming way.   
  
'Praps it was the same for him.   
  
"It's Quatre's birthday -" I stuttered. "We're here to celebrate it."   
  
"I know." He moved along the bar, partygoers scattering around him like they bounced - gently - off. I braced a hand against the top, not sure what I was trying to steel myself against. The jewel sparkled at his ear - his smile grew as he reached my side. "The manager has already arranged things with your friend, Mr Barton. We'll make it a night to remember for the blond one."   
  
"Thanks..."   
  
"It's my job," he said, dismissively. He didn't seem to have any other questions, like I'd expected. He stared at my lips as I spoke. Involuntarily, my tongue slipped out and moistened them.   
  
"I'll get you a drink, Duo," he said, and lifted an arm to call for one of the bar staff.   
  
"Not for me," I said, quickly. "I'm not drinking at the moment." I didn't add; since this morning, actually. I'd celebrated Q's birthday at home last night with a coupla cocktails, and then I'd decided that was probably gonna be it for me. There were too many things I might slip back into; drink was not gonna be one of 'em.   
  
Heero raised an eyebrow. "Water, then?"   
  
"Sure."   
  
The barmaid reached for my glass, then caught sight of Heero beside me. She nearly dropped it. He waved at her, rather sharply, and she grimaced at me.   
  
"Sorry, sir -"   
  
"Get the water," Heero said, very softly. His voice was like a blade. She scurried off.   
  
"Chill," I said to him. "No need for that. Just 'cos you're in charge doesn't mean you have to be some kinda bully."   
  
He just gazed back. Staff matters were already far from his mind. "I missed you, Duo."   
  
"It's only been a coupla days, Heero..." Seven! _Seven_! my body screamed at me.   
  
The water came back, and he pulled up two stools so that we sat together at the bar. The music was loud, but we could hear each other talk. His knee pressed hard against mine, so that I'd be sure to know it wasn't accidental. The shiver ran up through my body like there was a thread of electricity between us.   
  
"I - spoke to my uncle about what you said," he said, slowly. "I'm sure that he's got nothing to do with gangs and the mob, and the like." He made it sound like interspace travel. "He's just got a couple of businesses, like this club. You must take my word for that, now."   
  
Like hell I would...and how could Heero be that naïve?   
  
OK, so let's face it, here - I was becoming more and more sure that his uncle was involved in something unpleasant. He had to be my prime suspect for the role of K's estranged 'relative', didn't he? He had probably set up his own organisation here; maybe rackets like K, as well. He hired thugs like Peck; he'd used them to beat me up for bothering his precious nephew. He probably owned _far_ more than this club - if he was anything like K, he would own many businesses, and networks, and _people_. It was a world I'd been on the fringes of - I reckoned I could recognise the same in the neighbouring city.   
  
"What's his name, Heero?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"Your uncle - is he a Yuy, like you?"   
  
He stared at me. The lids hooded his eyes slightly. "Yes, of course he is. What are you going on about?"   
  
A Mr Yuy - like Y.   
  
I stared back. I'd thought I was so sharp; now I'd never felt duller. I didn't know where the hell I was going with this.   
  
Heero spoke, and it was as if he'd heard my thoughts aloud. "Step away from it, Duo. You came to see me, like I came to see you. That's what matters. You want to leave?" His hand slid further up my thigh; squeezed none too gently.   
  
Yes, of course I wanted to leave with him, go somewhere with him. I had eyes only for him.   
  
"No, I don't, for God's sake! It's Q's night - I'm here as his guest. Maybe we can get together later..." Oh, how careless I thought I sounded! So laid back. Heero smiled, because of course he knew I was talking crap. He was looking at me like he was imagining me _laid back_ , and I could feel things stirring restlessly in my jeans. I just _gotta_ find a looser, more comfortable pair...   
  
He slipped off his stool, and took my arm. "Come with me, then."   
  
"Wait -"   
  
"We won't leave the building," he hissed in my ear. He'd leaned forward to do so, and his breath tickled at my neck. As the words stopped, his tongue flickered out and lapped at the side of my mouth.   
  
"It's Q's night," I gasped, even as my lips opened and I took in his hot, questing tongue. "I oughtta be with him..."   
  
"Just friends, you said," Heero hissed. He put his hand to the back of my neck, and devoured me - he kissed like it was some kinda battle campaign, and he didn't do defeat. I wondered - though my head wasn't operating at full capacity at the moment - what the bar staff were gonna make of the boss snogging some guy in full view of the club. I guess Heero always did what he wanted - _when_ he wanted. Just like he'd always told me. "He'll understand. He has his mate to console him - I need _mine_ ..."   
  
"Is that what I am?" I moaned.   
  
"Is that what you want to be?" he mocked me, gently. Neither of us wanted to answer the question properly, I guess.   
  
He was pushing me none too gently to the side of the bar, past the revellers. We were in shadow, but we were by no means hidden from view; dammit, we were right next to the entrance to the men's room.   
  
"Alley?" I hissed. The throbbing bass of the music was loud in the room - one of my last clear thoughts was that it was Q's favourite for dancing. The clatter of plates and the clink of glasses was all around us. His leg was pressing between my thighs. I was thrusting back at him, and I could feel the rock-hard bulge in his pants. I wanted to feel it _out_ of his pants...   
  
"No. Can't wait. Come with me," he hissed in reply, and dragged me into the men's room. I was protesting, even as he shooed the coupla guys out who were in there, and pulled us both into a stall. He locked the door behind us; he pressed me hard against the wall, various pipes sticking into my lower back. And the kissing went on.   
  
"Christ, not _here_ -" I groaned. God, how sordid were things gonna get? Was this some kinda punishment, after I'd been allowed to enjoy the luxury of his apartment? My elbow cracked against the cold, tiled wall - one of my legs was bent awkwardly behind me, twisted in the confined space. But I couldn't deny the agonising tension in my groin; the way my arms clung round his neck; the eagerness of my kissing in return.   
  
His hand was at my jeans, unzipping me. "Hush, Duo. No noise, or the next guys in will hear us." He tugged them down, and spun me round over the seat. "Bend over..." I put out my hands to support myself, and bent at the waist as best I could.   
  
My jeans were snagging on my thighs. "I'll take 'em off -"   
  
"No time," he hissed. The denim sagged round my ankles, and his leg pushed between mine, spreading me at the knees. I heard his own zip open; felt the new heat at my cool ass. His fingers were fevered at my opening - I winced as he pushed two fingers in at once. He was damn desperate, it seemed...   
  
"You prepared?" I gasped. Spontaneity was all well and good - but both of us had always been very aware of protection.   
  
"You think my own restroom won't have adequate facilities?" he hissed back. Then there was a gasp, like he swallowed a laugh. "Chocolate or banana?"   
  
Jeez... "Chocolate," I groaned. Damn novelty condom machines! I heard the quiet rip of the plastic wrapper, and the rustle of Heero preparing himself. My legs shook slightly - I felt my body begging for him.   
  
"Gonna be fast, Duo," he moaned to my neck. "Relax, I don't want to hurt you -"   
  
"Fuck me," I hissed. "I'm relaxed, already -!"   
  
He gripped my hips, and thrust in. I bit on my lip to hold back the groan, and I felt myself clench hard around the invasion. He let out a hiss of harsh breath, and began pumping into me. I was jerked backward and forward over the bowl, and all I could do was admire the sanitary view and wonder how I got through a single day without feeling this ecstasy and thrill...   
  
He was right - it was gonna be fast. I felt him swelling within the minute, and his fingers dug into me so hard that I thought I'd have a new set of bruises to deal with. My own cock hung out in front of me, weeping forlornly, and begging for an attention it wasn't going to get just yet. His strokes got slower, but fiercer - he was plunging up into me as if he wanted my head on a pike. My feet skidded on the lino floor; I gripped the walls as if I were hanging on a mountain cliff.   
  
" _Duo_..." he whimpered. And then his cock shuddered inside me, and I imagined it bursting its hot, thick seed out of its tip and up into the depths of my ass. He clasped me round the waist as the dam broke inside him, wrenching my body away from the wall, and my back close up to his chest, and he thrust up again and again into me, even as he came. I reached behind me, grasping at his hips, and I ground myself back against him.   
  
"Touch me -" I hissed. But even as his hand came lazily to stroke my throbbing, neglected cock, I heard the creak of the door swinging open, and a coupla guys coming in for some quick relief. Like us! I thought, crazily. Heero's hand paused for a second, then it restarted, more furiously than before. His legs were buckling a little, after his climax - he leaned back against the closed door for support; my body slumped back against him. His softening cock was still up inside me. I braced my arms against the walls either side, and lifted a foot on to the bowl. The angle was good - it took much of my weight from his chest, and allowed him to get his hand round my hips and take a good hold of my cock.   
  
The guys outside were having a piss, and laughing about some girl who'd dumped one of their friends earlier. I didn't know the voices - though they were probably a few of Q's thousand friends. I didn't want them to know Q's flatmate was in the toilets, being fucked by the management, now did I?   
  
I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood - there was a scream escaping me, too damn close for me to control easily. Heero's cock had slipped out of me, exhausted for the moment, but to my delighted horror, his long, sly finger had taken its place up my ass, probing at me as he pumped. My prostate was under attack, and he musta known I had trouble keeping quiet in those circumstances. Bastard! I thought, even as I bucked against him. The other guys' voices were rising and falling - they'd opened the door and left, though others may have come in. I couldn't hear too well. I couldn't _breathe_ too well! The door of the stall was creaking under our combined weight, and my fingers were grasping for desperate purchase on the tiles.   
  
I hissed as I came - it was the only sound I could trust not to be heard, and I needed to expend some breath. The climax raced up from my toes and down from my head, and I could feel the individual whorls of Heero's fingers tighten around me as I let the cum flood out. My body jerked against him, my foot slipped off the bowl, and my arms collapsed. The ripples of ecstasy were still running through my body, as I fell out of Heero's grip and sank to my knees, dripping carelessly all over the folds of denim around my ankles.   
  
There was a thud as my limbs hit the cold floor - an echo throughout the room of my involuntary groan of completion. I waited for the outraged yells from outside.   
  
All I heard was Heero's low laughter.   
  
The door of the stall opened behind me, and closed again. I sat there on the floor, panting, like some redundant puppet, strings all tangled. When my heart slowed to something less than supersonic speed, I'd get up and face the music...   
  
Heero's voice came from outside the stall. He was running a tap, and whistling. "You finished in there, Duo? We haven't got all night! Everyone else has gone to toast the birthday boy - what a time for you to take a leak, eh? Your timing is impeccable!"   
  
I gaped like a grounded goldfish.   
  
"I'll see you out there!" he called, turning off the tap. "You'll be coming soon, now, won't you?"   
  
Another soft laugh. Of triumph - of self-satisfaction.   
  
The outer door opened - I could hear the blast of music - and closed again.   
  
I sighed, and began to clean myself up.   
  
*   
  
I didn't see Heero when I staggered out of the mens room. All for the best, probably. My heart was still racing, and my legs felt ridiculously weak, as I joined Trowa for the toast, and another burst of aggressive music and frenzied dancing.   
  
There was champagne on the table. "From the management," explained T. He stared at me rather curiously. "He says all Q's drinks are free for the night."   
  
"He?"   
  
"Heero Yuy," said Trowa. Or rather, he mouthed it, because the beat was increasing, and Q had somehow wangled his way into the DJ box, and was choosing all his best - and loudest - favourites. "Have you seen him, Duo? He looked disappointed you weren't here when he came over."   
  
"Gotta get some air," I mouthed back. Seen him? I was still overstretched in life and limb from _seeing_ him...   
  
I grabbed a bottle of water, and made my way around the dance floor towards the back exit. I didn't really want to go back into the foyer, or outside - there were still too many others around for me to have a quiet moment. I wanted to think some more about me - and Heero. I thought the alley would be a suitable - and fitting - place for that.   
  
No-one stopped me. I pushed the door, hidden deep in the shadows, and I stepped out into the cool night air.   
  
*   
  
He was there.   
  
Shad was there.   
  
It was a hideous shock, and yet it was a relief as well. I was proved right - he _was_ here, in the city! He had moved here - along with Peck. And God knows how many others. The door swung quietly shut behind me, the noise of the club cut off as if by sharp scissors.   
  
We stared at each other. I looked carefully, to see if he went for a gun or a knife. But he just stood there. He was smoking, but the cigarette had barely burned down - he'd only been here for a while.   
  
"Not so keen on the club then, boy? Noise too much for you?" His voice was harsh, but it was also a little wary. I knew where the catch to the door was - I could dart back in if I moved quickly.   
  
But I didn't think I could move at all at the moment - my legs seemed rooted to the spot. The memories of it all came flooding back. Sharp; painful; loud. An angry, sordid time. A cruel time. With this man at the hub of it all.   
  
"Yeah... I remember you," he said, slowly. He tilted his head a little, as if he were examining me. As if he were short-sighted. He didn't wear those ludicrous shades like all the others did. "I saw you across the floor - saw you looking over here. Easy for me to slip outside first, to give you a proper welcome, eh?" He dropped the cigarette, and it fizzled out on the cold ground.   
  
I was silent. I thought that was the wisest thing to do, but I also couldn't think of a word to say. I swallowed hard, to loosen my throat.   
  
"A courier, right?" he mused. Looked again at me, as if I were a specimen. Which I probably was, to him. Better he remembered me as a courier - a harmless, biddable messenger. "Called you the Rat, didn't they?"   
  
That stung. I hated nicknames at the best of times. Even for the kids who had no names that they could remember, we always made new ones up for them. My anger loosened my tongue. "Long time no see, Shad, thank fuck. They called me that 'cos I ran fast -"   
  
He laughed. "Nah - hair like a rat's tail, kid - _that's_ why the name stuck. And, of course, because you were fucking devious - and smelled like a sewer..."   
  
I flushed. Seems he remembered a little more of me than I thought.   
  
"And something else," grinned Shad. He was enjoying humiliating me. "I remember, now - Peck said you'd be a fine piece of ass if you could cut the smart remarks; that your mouth was too damn sharp."   
  
"Didn't say that when he wanted it round his cock -" I spat out, despising myself for slipping back into the smart, gutter talk of that time.   
  
Shad laughed again. Looked down to my crotch, and back up again. He'd never tended to go for the boys, but I guess he found it fascinating if others did. "Yeah - he said you gave good head!"   
  
One extremely small part of me was flattered - the other parts wanted to puke. "Surprised he could tell, a prick that small..." I hissed.   
  
He laughed again, loudly, like he enjoyed my wit. "Not a courier for long, were you, Rat? As I remember, you ran the kids. And then _you_ ran..."   
  
"And you're bothered?" I snapped. "Like you wanted to repo my boots? That's all I ever had that was mine!"   
  
"Why'd you run, Rat?"   
  
"Pension scheme wasn't good enough," I mumbled. "Why'd you care?"   
  
"You belonged to us, you little shit," he hissed. It was the first evidence that I'd rattled him. "No-one runs out on us. Not if they've got a job to do. Damn kids went wild after you went - lost a coupla good earners. Run to the _cops_ , did ya?"   
  
And then I realised what he was there for. To find out if I was a danger to him - if I'd reported on them all. If I'd turned Honest Citizen. Christ, I'd _wanted_ to! I know Wufei would've wanted me to. To make my salvation complete. But I couldn't - I was scared, I guess. Scared of how it would affect me personally. Couldn't face the questions; the contempt from people who'd see me as nothing better than the others. I just kept my head down, and hid.   
  
Or rather, I had until now.   
  
Time to turn the tables a little.   
  
"So what about _you_ , Shad? And Peck? Looks like you ran, too. Ran to a different master, here. I thought you were Mr K's dog. Who do _you_ belong to now?"   
  
He started towards me, and it took all my guts to stand still. He was angry at the hatred in my voice - at the disgust.   
  
"I go where the money is, Rat. Where the power is. And I take my team with me. Mr K's on the way out, y'know. We had - a _disagreement_... So there's gonna be a new way, and it's gonna be run from here. And I'm gonna be the guy in charge. You know that's how it works, don't ya?"   
  
"So this is where the power is? _Whose_ power, Shad? Who's in charge here?"   
  
He stared at me, and for a minute, his eyes narrowed. "What d' _you_ know about it, Rat?"   
  
I ignored his question. "Baz was on your team, wasn't he? Is he still with you?"   
  
"Mind your own fucking business!"   
  
That meant he was. And probably doing the same 'job' that he'd started, on that hideous night, on that hell of a sidewalk. Or the job that he'd been _turned to_. Poor fucker - I always said he wasn't bright enough to feed himself. He'd just do what he was told, however shocking - Christ, he'd _welcome_ the direction!   
  
"Did you send him to kill Wufei? Wufei Chang?" Shad's face was blank. "The counsellor..."   
  
There was a flicker on Shad's face that was ugly to behold. "Can't remember the name, Rat. But it's likely, don't ya think? I got no time for guys who are in the way. Who threaten me and mine. There've been a few of 'em had to go...."   
  
I thought I might vomit. I remembered how I heard he'd snapped a kid's neck once - I knew the boy. A thin, whining little thing, who apparently had OD'd on some stuff that Shad himself had been carrying. Shad gave it to him, to get him through a 'group' appointment that he'd set up for him - but it had taken the kid over the edge, and Shad had no patience with that. One snap, and that was the end of him. Of the annoyance.   
  
One snap... one knife... one wound.   
  
"So what did you do to Peck?"   
  
"Peck?" Shad looked disgusted, like something had tasted bad in his mouth. "The guy was a moron. It was a simple enough task - seeing to you. Stupid cretin couldn't initiate a dump in a cesspit. He managed to get himself recognised, yeah?"   
  
"I - "   
  
"Shut it, Rat," he snapped, though quite amiably. "He came bleating back that he knew you. That he thought you might have recognised him. He left you still able to walk and talk, and came grovelling back to me. So - I thought I might come and have a look at you myself."   
  
Despite my bravado, I shivered. "So he had to go as well? Did you kill him?"   
  
"Never touched him," grinned Shad. His face had never been handsome, but with the feral grin that spread over it, he looked like something out of a horror movie. It was pure pleasure, for something quite foul. "He was shit; he was no fucking good to me. Hadn't been as a pimp; wasn't much better in protection."   
  
"Who then -? You used Baz again, did you? You bastard -"   
  
He just laughed.   
  
"Why did you send Peck to 'see to me', Shad? Who cares about me? I'm just a guy who hangs around the club..."   
  
"You're bothering the boss," hissed Shad. "I don't allow that."   
  
Which boss? I thought. Heero, the boss of the club? Or maybe Mr Y. Because he didn't like his nephew shagging an ex-pimp! For God's sake, who cared _who_ Heero was shagging?   
  
"Who's the guy in charge, then?" I asked. There was a hint of desperation in my voice. Some life had come back to my frozen limbs; I was inching back towards the door. But there were so many things I still didn't know for sure; I needed some confirmation. Trowa's cop friend in Vice had been desperate for my nuggets of information - but I hugged them to me for now. I needed to hear Shad say it - for my own satisfaction. "Who's Mr Y, Shad?"   
  
The smirk on his face was slow and deep, and that was when I knew I'd blown it.   
  
"You know fucking _nothing_ , do ya, Rat? I knew it! Guess you've got fuck all to go to the cops with." He stared at me, sizing me up. I saw him spread his feet - balancing his weight so that he was ready for action. "It's just a weird coincidence - you turning up here, hanging about with the boss. Hah - I've got no time for you! You wanna make a run for it, with that speedy little rat's ass you're so proud of? I'll enjoy the chase..."   
  
"So what's the score with _you_ , Shad - some kinda coup?" I persisted. Just another coupla feet, and I could reach the catch if I threw myself back... "Have you thrown in your stinking lot with the new guy here - gonna take over the whole state? Get rid of the others in your way; sweep out the old management, bring in the new. Set your pathetic, psychotic little killer loose, with a long enough chain, and let him run where he's told to..."   
  
A strange expression passed Shad's face. "Yeah - that'd do just fine for me. It's worked for me so far; I got no issues with it." But he looked wary again. 'Praps things weren't all going his way. 'Praps he didn't have the power yet that he thought he was entitled to. Christ, I hoped not! The more obstacles on Shad's path to world dominance, the better.   
  
"But perhaps that includes you too, Rat, eh? A guy in my way..."   
  
Things were decidedly colder out here now.   
  
I decided to go for it. I leapt back, wrenching at the catch, ready to leap through the door and into the warm, suffocating safety of the club.   
  
Nothing moved. I fell heavily against the door, and it never shifted an inch. The breath was knocked out of me, and I sank to my knees on the cold pavement, my shoulder wrenched painfully.   
  
I could hear Shad laughing behind me. "Got new security arrangements now, boy. All private doors locked from the inside at all times - well, almost all times!"   
  
I wheezed, painfully. I tried to wriggle up to my knees.   
  
"You gonna kill me, Shad?" I hissed. I was numb with agony and a hell of a lot of fear. Though the only thing that flashed across my mind was how disappointed Q would be if I spoilt his birthday party by ending up dead in an alley...   
  
"Not just now, Rat."   
  
He grinned at my expression. "Surprised, eh? But I don't need any further trouble here. I got more important things to do. And I was right when I told the boss you're no fucking danger at the moment - you know squat. And you won't be blabbing to the cops, will ya? Not unless you want some of y'own history dragged outta the files..."   
  
He walked over; stood towering over me. He nudged at me with his boot - just trying out the feel of it, I guess. Then he reached over and tapped three times on the door. It opened a little, from the inside. The music blared out.   
  
"Get the fuck out of here, Rat. And stay out of our business. You talk like some kinda gangster movie - but things are professional nowadays, don't ya know? This boss 's got standards, and strategies, and proper business advisors." He leant down, and his spit dribbled on to my cheek. "So I'm gonna _advise_ this business _my_ way, y'see. And no snivelling little rent-boy is gonna bother me. Got it?"   
  
One last kick, and I nodded that I'd got it. He stepped over me, and on into the club.   
  
" _Who's Mr Y_!" I could hear him laughing about it, all the way in.   
  
Things were _really_ cold out here tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

It was past midnight; I was at the Royal Apartments, and I was hammering on the glass doors. My body was still shaken from the impact of the door at the club - the wrench to my shoulder had resurrected the barely recovered pain in my ribs.   
  
Fuck, I thought, it's only pain. Of more importance were the anger - and the fear.   
  
The night-time desk guy - here's a surprise! - refused to let me in. But I threatened to sit on the step all night and piss on the windows, and finally he rang up to Heero's apartment for me.   
  
I hadn't found Heero at the club, after I staggered back in. Instead, I'd found a deliriously euphoric Quatre, and a happily distracted Trowa, and I didn't see that my experiences would add any value to them. The music thundered on, the drink flowed, and the partygoers were committed until dawn. So having established that Heero had left the building, I just snuck myself away.   
  
So he had to be here. Heero must have come back here. After fucking me. After protesting his innocence, and penetrating me with extreme - albeit consensual - prejudice. After one of his uncle's staff yet again threatened me, and rebranded me by using a hated name that I'd thought to leave behind months ago.   
  
I'd had enough. The memories of my former life were thick in my mind and filthy on my tongue. It seemed I was destined to have them with me for ever; they'd followed me to my new life, and soiled the recovery I was seeking to make, and - worst of all - they were irretrievably linked to the man that I thought I might love.   
  
Love... hey, what was this, appearing suddenly in my vocabulary? The idea was an anachronism to me, personally; the concept was a romantic alien in my world. I rolled the word around on my mind's tongue. Tried to ignore it. But there was no other description for the way I felt. Whether I liked it or not. Whether he gave a fuck in return or not.   
  
Had the impact with the door knocked my brain off line as well?   
  
I had _definitely_ had enough!   
  
The elevator whined to a halt in the lobby, and Heero stepped out. He was dressed in the sweats I'd seen him in before, with a thin denim shirt on top. He looked as if he'd showered, and washed his hair, and was settling down to finish the night at home. Quietly, with little fuss. And definitely not with a semi-hysterical lover, whose clothes were looking the worse for wear, and whose body was aching with several new and exciting bruises.   
  
"Duo." The usual nod. He looked a little more tense, now I saw him up close.   
  
"You left the club."   
  
"I had an appointment. I looked for you, but I had to leave immediately. You could have followed me - well, I see that you did."   
  
He was cool as ice, it seemed. But I knew him better than that, from even our short _acquaintance_. I saw the jitter in his dark pupils; the slight shiver to his lip.   
  
"You gonna ask me up, then?"   
  
"Do you expect me to?" he asked.   
  
I stepped closely to him, and grabbed his wrist. It was down by his side, so there was no overt sign of violence to scare the desk guy; but I saw Heero wince as I tightened my grip.   
  
"Yes, I do. I think I deserve a better reception than the public toilets. A little more of your time than a mere wham bam thank you, Duo. A better explanation than Shad chose to give me in the alley..."   
  
"I never meant... wait, what do you mean, the alley? Are you hurt?" he broke in, real panic in his look.   
  
He hadn't protested at hearing Shad's name. Inside, I sighed.   
  
"Take me upstairs," I insisted. "We'll talk there."   
  
*   
  
"You knew Shad was on the payroll," I ranted. "You _knew_ what I was talking about was real, and happening in your family's business empire. However you try to ring-fence yourself in within one small club, you have to admit now that these things are happening in _your_ family's name!"   
  
I stared at him, sat opposite me on one of the two leather couches. "Don't deny it anymore, Heero! Credit me with some intelligence."   
  
He steepled his hands on his chin. Seemed to consider his reply carefully before he spoke. "Have you told anyone else about this?"   
  
About what? I wanted to shout. About being beaten up behind the mall; about being threatened by a lump of shit who once snapped a kid's neck 'cos he was bored with him? About the illegal rackets that he helped run for Mr K - about the Mr Y he most probably works for now, being part of your family?   
  
"No," I replied, tersely. "I've never told anyone what I may or may not know. I'm too fucking ashamed of my own past to own up to the present. And isn't that what your uncle sent Shad to find out tonight?"   
  
Heero's gaze was cautious. "My uncle didn't send anyone. Not that first time - nor tonight."   
  
"So it's Shad acting on his own! I think your uncle should be damn careful of what's going on in his name. It won't be long before Shad - or one of his uncontrollable minions - steps over the line, and the whole damn thing spirals out of business and into burial! The police are on the trail already, y'know..."   
  
"Perhaps that's better." He leaned back on the couch, with a slight sigh.   
  
"For who, Heero?"   
  
No answer.   
  
I watched him sitting there, apparently calm. Arm flung over the back of the couch; denim shirt open by a few buttons, showing the gleam of his chest. I remembered every line of that chest; I'd kissed it. I'd caressed it. It had crushed itself against me as he took me, my legs clasped round him, tongues thrusting into each other. I felt sick. I wanted to break that calm - I wanted to shatter his composure in the face of this horror.   
  
"Why did you let me go on? Why did you let _us_ go on?" His gaze snapped up to me - he was startled. "I'm trouble for you, Heero. Better to have dumped me quickly, and kept away from the club like you used to. Better to have diverted all these fucking awkward questions, and my potentially embarrassing past, and found another mattress-boy. Why, Heero?"   
  
I thought I'd found a trigger. He sat forward, suddenly; jerkily. Like he wanted to get up - probably like he wanted to hit me.   
  
"Why do you think, Duo? I'll tell you why! Because I _wanted_ you, and then I had you, and it was a thousand times more exhilarating than I had ever imagined. I didn't want to give that up!" I gaped at him. And he rushed on. "You met me on equal terms, unlike the pathetic little sycophants who know of my family, and try to suck up to me and my body. Thinking they can satisfy me. No-one ever has, Duo! But you gave as much as you took; you were honest with your desire. I never felt that you surrendered to me; only that you participated, willingly. We enjoyed each other, and I didn't see that we needed anything else!"   
  
His mouth stopped, half open. His face was stricken. "I want you, Duo. I don't want any other."   
  
_Shit_ , I thought. My head struggled to get round this. "I never knew you felt like that. You could have said something..."   
  
"No I couldn't," he said. There was pure misery in his voice. "I never have. I don't act that way, Duo."   
  
"But you're doing it now -"   
  
"Yes. Well - trying, perhaps. For you. To try to make you understand me. I want you to understand me..."   
  
I wanted to kiss him; to touch the skin of his back, showing under the denim cloth as he leant forward. I felt that strange desire that was the same for me as for him - the desire that teetered somewhere between striking and seducing.   
  
Heero lay back on the couch with a frustrated breath. "I want you to know that I think you're right about Shad. He came to us - he came to my uncle, saying he had ideas to make us stronger. I think that he'd just outstayed his welcome where he was - and that was working for uncle's other nephew, Kai. My cousin."   
  
"Mr K -?"   
  
I don't know if I was pleased or horrified, to find that I was right. That it was the same family. That my old life and my new were slowly overlapping, like the ripples in quicksand.   
  
I was just numb.   
  
Heero shrugged, not knowing what I meant with the mysterious initial. "My uncle and Kai's family - they grew businesses together, as young men - it was just business, Duo, just commerce. Then they fell out - they separated across state. Each went their own way. Things grew from there."   
  
"Other - illegal - businesses..."   
  
He stared hard at me. His eyes were cautious; and there was some other expression there. I wanted to think that he was asking something of me. My understanding? My tolerance? My silence...?   
  
"Yes, it's true. There's a fine line between profit and profiteering, uncle is fond of saying." Heero gave a short, harsh laugh. "But that's been Kai's way, not uncle's. Compared to Kai, uncle is a naif in business, though he likes to think he can compete. In both legal and illegal matters. But Kai was always the one with the brains, and the ambition. Most would say the ruthlessness as well. I knew what Kai was building across state - I knew how uncle hungered after the same thing. He just doesn't have it in him to follow it through. Our organisation is very tame, Duo. We run some businesses that are less savoury than others; some businesses that rely on customers on the periphery of conventional life. But we are almost totally legal. I - we try to see to that."   
  
" _Almost_ totally legal?"   
  
He gazed back at me, challenging me. "Almost. I can see your anger, Duo, it's clear in your face. I'm not saying I condone it. I'm not saying it will always be that way. But it's my family's business as it is today."   
  
"And Shad -?"   
  
He grimaced. "Shad has brought too much of Kai's vision with him. I believe that Kai grew tired of him. Maybe a little scared - unable to control him. Kai thrives on success, but not at the expense of family, even if our two threads had parted - he wouldn't look for violence between us, not even for the potential of extending his empire here. What can we offer him, after all? But from what Shad has said to me, that's _his_ way - and his only way. Having lost support from Kai, he obviously thought that uncle would welcome him; that he would tempt him with an opportunity to become more like Kai. To turn the initiative in the other direction. I think that Shad wanted uncle to take over Kai's territory."   
  
"Your uncle would want that -?"   
  
"The idea is ridiculous!" snapped Heero, surprising me. "Shad - Shad is a subversive influence. We've been trying to find a way to ease him out - his 'ideas' are far too aggressive. There are things happening in our family's name that I don't agree with - that frighten me! But that Shad supports. He's taken control of a large part of the organisation."   
  
"Can't your uncle stop him?"   
  
"No." It was a very small, but very strong word.   
  
"You mean he doesn't want to!"   
  
"No, that's not it, Duo. He - we - he's working on it, believe me. But there are things that I can't tell you. There are things you have to trust my judgement on -"   
  
"Bullshit!" I spat out. "So you're only a bit player, Heero, but that doesn't make you a pawn, does it? Do something about it! You're part of the family, aren't you? You must have influence over your uncle. Change it, or get out of it!"   
  
There was a strange light in his eyes as he looked back at me. There was a whole history behind there, which I had no access to.   
  
"It's my life, Duo. It's what I've always known - what I grew up with. It's the _only_ thing I've ever known. I can't change myself overnight."   
  
"I don't understand." I shook my head. "Who were you meeting tonight, Heero? Was it Shad? Did you know he was gonna corner me in the alley tonight?"   
  
"No!" he snapped back. "Of course not! I dropped some champagne at your table, and then I got called away - Shad said it was Kai. He'd be ringing me tonight to - to discuss things. Shad said he'd pass a message on to you, because I had to come back here at once - it's the only number Kai uses." He looked, a little absently, at the telephone in the corner of the lounge. "He hasn't rung yet, though..."   
  
Shad got a message to me all right. I don't know why I felt a chill down my spine. It curled into my wound, and the fresh new skin throbbed in response. Though the leather was warm enough against my back...   
  
"Has Shad talked to you about _me_?" I sounded a tad sulky.   
  
"Yes," murmured Heero. "He spoke to me last week. He told me that you'd had connections with him in a previous - employment."   
  
I stood up, abruptly. Guess he knew all about the 'Rat' stuff now. "You knew that already. I told you."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"Shad - he doesn't _approve_ of our acquaintance, Heero. Is that just his own opinion?"   
  
Heero's eyes flashed darkly. "It's none of his business who I see!"   
  
"But he works for your uncle. 'Praps it's your uncle who's been sending him after me. 'Praps he doesn't think I'm a suitable companion for you... " I felt as if I were pushing Heero to agree with me. When I so wanted him to deny it.   
  
And he did. Though his eyes were troubled. "It's my business, and mine alone. No-one tells me whom to see. You should know that by now. But there's some truth in what you say - when Shad spoke to me, he tried to turn it into something else. He tried to tell me - to tell my uncle that this previous connection meant you were a threat. That you knew about aspects of the business from the inside; that you may have told the police, and may already be an informant. That you knew the child he uses for his work -"   
  
"Baz, you mean."   
  
"I don't know his name. The child that runs around with him sometimes. He sends him on errands. He said he could send him on an errand that would finish Kai's rival empire for good, and leave the way for us to expand. To take over the lot."   
  
"With him as chief of _Security_ -?" My voice rasped with disgust.   
  
Heero smiled slightly, but without much humour. "You know him well."   
  
"So what did you tell him?"   
  
"I told him that Kai and I didn't have that kind of rivalry. That we weren't interested in that kind of _expansion_. I told him to fuck off. I've barely seen him since then."   
  
The angry words sounded excessively crude from Heero's lush lips.   
  
"And your uncle? What did he say?"   
  
He stared up at me again. His eyes were dark and deep, and yet I couldn't make out the expression in them. His slim, strong hand stretched out - touched at my hip.   
  
"He agreed with me. Of course."   
  
I stood there, not sure what I was feeling. Fear for me - for Heero. Fear of the psychotic Shad and the sad boy Baz, in his power. Confusion as to what was gonna happen now. To what extent was Heero involved?   
  
The wound at my side was still throbbing gently; it was rare that it troubled me, nowadays.   
  
And had he meant what he said about his feelings for me? I'd never heard him speak so much about something personal. Sure, it was no protestation of _love_... I mocked my own sad, over-sensitive, _ridiculous_ feelings. But it was something more than indifference. _Much_ more. I let the warm, tentative thoughts trickle a little way into my heart - even though I was sure they'd bring disaster and disappointment in their wake.   
  
I was just tired, and hurt, and unusually vulnerable - wasn't I?   
  
Over it all, I felt the warm pressure of his hand at my hip. And I didn't move away when he drew me nearer to him on the couch.   
  
"Heero..."   
  
"Are you a threat, Duo? An informant? Are you here to find out if we have illegal interests like Kai -?"   
  
"Christ, no -!"   
  
"So I was right."   
  
"Maybe." I laughed, quickly. "Who knows what's right and wrong at the moment? I wish I fucking well did..."   
  
"So... why _are_ you here?" he murmured. There was a strange, tentative lilt to his question. His whole demeanour had changed. His fingers pressed sharply at my waist.   
  
I shrugged, but it was an empty gesture. "To see you, " I replied. "To know more about _you_..."   
  
He drew in a breath, sharply. He may have flushed - I couldn't see easily. "Why?"   
  
Who the fuck knows? I nearly said aloud. When, of course, I knew only too well. But I was too scared to say.   
  
"Duo..." he murmured. "It's OK. I don't care why. You don't have to say anything." His breath was hot at my groin as he spoke, and his hand had slipped round behind me, to cup my ass. "I never wanted to leave you tonight at the club. I never meant for that to be anything more than - a taster... a hot, sexy madness. Stay with me tonight."   
  
*   
  
That was Heero's way. Still seemed to struggle with 'please' or 'thank you'. He ordered - others obeyed. Well, _I_ did.   
  
It had been a surreal night, and I was damn shaken up about everything that was going on - about everything I suspected, and everything I knew; and every other piece of crap that I didn't. But I'd never felt in any danger from Heero himself. He was disturbed in a way that I'd never seen in him before. I was disturbed myself, but let's face it, that was probably less of a culture shock for me.   
  
I wanted to see something behind his distress, which was connected with me. With my effect on him. He'd said some things to me that set my feelings adrift in me - that excited me in ways I hadn't gone down before. I wanted that to be a truth that I could rely on - I wanted to believe that.   
  
And meanwhile, the solace he sought was a familiar one.   
  
"Kiss me, Duo."   
  
He peeled the denim shirt off over his head, exposing his bare chest, knowing that would excite me. He reached for me with one hand, flipping at the buttons of my shirt, pushing the silk up off my shoulders. I helped it along; he was still sitting, looking up at me. Then I was half-naked too. He tugged at the end of my braid, and I bent my head to his; we began a kiss that was tentative to start with, then as fevered as always. He tasted of warm, sweet tea. It didn't seem bold enough for him.   
  
His other hand was inside my jeans, sliding round to my ass - a finger stroked gently around the dip at the bottom of my spine; sneaked down between my cheeks, searching for the welcoming pucker.   
  
Except that I didn't feel totally welcoming. There were many small fires of rebellion and uncertainty inside me that weren't extinguished yet. Not enough to be able to roll over and let him in. Not that easily.   
  
I lifted my lips from his, just to make it clear. "Don't touch me there. Not tonight."   
  
Once again, he accepted my reluctance quite calmly. When he must have known that he could have easily talked me round - kissed me round. Instead, he pulled my mouth back down to his, and his kissing continued - but it was a little more careful. Like he wasn't sure what I wanted. His hand slid back round to the front of my body - to my groin, and he started caressing my cock. His hand was squashed inside the fabric, but the fingertips played a sure little tune up and down me. And it was damn good...   
  
"Let me do this, then, Duo..."   
  
He flipped the button, and tugged down the zip. I was back in boxers, for all the protection they gave me. I was straining against the thin fabric - he peeled it gently down over my hot, flesh-red tip. Then he took hold of my hips, and pulled me down on the couch beside him. I lay back, temporarily without any energy to resist. Even if I'd wanted to.   
  
He took hold of me.   
  
The skin of his hand was a little rough, but it made the friction more intense. His strokes were strong and exciting, and he knew exactly where to torment the skin to make me shiver. He tugged the creases up tight over my swelling shaft; he teased out the pre-cum and smoothed it all over the tip, so that his hand moved easily.   
  
I whimpered slightly. Every sweep of his hand dragged the ache in my groin with it; my hips jerked upwards to meet him. My nerves were stretched so tightly I winced every time he varied his touch. He paused at the base of my cock, kneading my balls gently with the pad of his palm. His thumb stroked at the hairs, teasing them a little out of their bed, and then letting them bounce back into place. And still he caressed me firmly and demandingly, squeezing me towards a climax that I knew was gonna be so fucking poignant that it was gonna be _painful_...   
  
When he pulled down the waist of his sweats, and tugged one of my flailing hands towards his own cock, I was glad to grasp at it, and start to pump it in time with his own movements. He was hot and he was thick; I marvelled that it felt nothing like my own. He gave his own, soft groan as I worked the flesh up and down.   
  
"This is mad -" I gasped. What did I mean? That I was damned uncomfortable, scrunched up on the couch? That I should just give up, and go to bed with him, and let him fuck me like my body so obviously wanted?   
  
"This is _good_ -" Heero's smile was tight, as, like me, he fought to postpone the inevitable ecstasy. He slid down beside me. His breath was harsh, and shortening rapidly, but he never lost control of his hand. Of me.   
  
We lay side by side on the couch, still fully clothed from the waist down, except for our escaping pricks, and we jerked each other off. Like teenagers, discovering each other, but not prepared to go further. It took longer than I'd expected, though I'd become aroused and pumped full of blood so damn quickly - but we _savoured_ each other, and the feel and touch of each other's flesh, and it was very, very _fucking_ good...   
  
"Make what noise you want," he hissed in my ear. "No-one will hear us."   
  
How did he know that was what I wanted? I was panting; I was biting a moan back into my mouth. I'd so often kept quiet, aware of the astonishing places we were fucking in -   
  
Then I lost all control, and I screamed. It was a loud, aching yell, and my body tried to fold in half as the climax wracked through me. It was a brilliant, gasping relief, to let the noise out, to express the rippling, shaking delight that burst up through my cock and spewed hot, sticky, glutinous cum all over our stomachs and Heero's supple fingers. The world swam around me, and I clutched my free hand to the arm of the couch, to try to anchor myself.   
  
"This is _very_ good..." Heero groaned, though I barely heard him in my misty mind, and then I felt the sharp throb of his own cock, and the rumble of seed racing up through it towards escape. I squeezed him one more time, trying to resurrect some feeling in my numbed, nerveless fingers, and he called out himself. He jerked against me, so that we both nearly rolled off, and the jolts of cum burst out from him as well. His head came down hard on my shoulder, pressing at where it met my neck, and I could feel the pulse throbbing through him. I folded my arms round his chest, and held him as he shuddered and twitched. We'd be well and truly messy together - I could feel the thick, warm, sticky stuff being squashed and spread all over our groins and stomachs.   
  
We lay for a minute or two, silent except for our panting. That slowed, after a while. Heero didn't pull away from my embrace, but finally I stirred underneath him.   
  
"I need a shower -"   
  
"Take one," he said, softly. His face lifted a little away from me. "There's plenty of hot water."   
  
I stared at him - at the soft swelling of his lips where we'd kissed. Where we'd snapped at each other's tongue as the climaxes approached. I knew what he wanted.   
  
"I'll stay, Heero. But just a shower. Just a bed. Nothing else tonight."   
  
He shrugged. He sat up stiffly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know. You said." He folded his graceful body up off the couch, stretching muscles out as he went. And he waved me in the direction of the bathroom.   
  
*   
  
It was a good shower; one with its own pump, and the steaming water came out fierce and scalding hot, just as I like it. It's a guilty pleasure, isn't it - the enjoyment of fast-flowing water and good soap? To cleanse your whole body - to caress it, to pamper it; to revel in the sensual delight of touching everywhere, for a perfectly good, and yet purely selfish reason.   
  
I stood for a long time, ostensibly unwrapping my braid, and combing out the kinks so that the water fully washed it. I felt the streams of hot water, fast and fierce, rushing down my back, and I luxuriated in it. How good it'd be, to wash the whole damn lot away! The present confusion; the whole of the miserable past. The loss of friends; of innocence. The missed opportunities; the sense of constant failure. I rubbed at my skin almost harshly, so that it began to burn with sensation. I washed out the smell of Heero and his leather couch; I washed out my own smell, the smell of the alley behind the club...   
  
I felt him there, in the room, seconds before I turned and saw him. I was in searingly hot water, but the goose bumps scattered across my body. The curtain was drawn aside, and the clouds of steam floated gently out over the whole room. Heero stood there, watching me, tall and still and completely nude. There was steam condensing on his shoulders and chest; locks of the dark hair were clinging to the side of his face.   
  
"Duo..." His eyes were bright like a fox's in the moonlight. They ran from my legs, up my naked, dripping body, and to my face. They lingered there. 'Praps there was a question in his eyes. 'Praps it was just lust.   
  
"Not tonight, Heero."   
  
"I know. I just want to watch you."   
  
I looked down at his cock - it was vibrantly alert again. High and tight - reaching for me. Free of its confines, it sprang out from the curly black nest; _begging_. He wanted it real bad.   
  
"You wanna take care of that, Heero?"   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
I smiled. A trail of water ran down my cheek, and I licked it into my mouth. "Let _me_ watch as well. Do it for me, Heero. Touch yourself..."   
  
There was that same look on his face, like the first time I'd sucked him off and swallowed his cum. This was something he'd never done. Yet I knew how he liked to watch me jerking myself off. Heero had a lot to learn, it seemed.   
  
I leant back against the tiles of the shower cubicle, and turned the water flow down. I felt my own cock stirring at the sight of Heero's naked body - at the glory of it. The perfection. The drops of water ran softly over my growing erection. I waved to him to continue, and I wrapped a hand lazily around myself.   
  
He was staring at my cock; he licked his lips. Yeah, Heero, I thought. 'Praps that'll be the next lesson...   
  
"Do it, Heero. Don't touch me - touch yourself. I wanna see it."   
  
He paused only a moment, as if he weighed up his appetite for it. And found he was hungry enough. He took a step or so back, and leant his lower back against the basin. He tugged gently at his cock, freeing some sticky hairs. I could see him shiver; I could see how much he wanted satisfaction. How much he wanted _me_. His fingers looked momentarily confused - but then he began to stroke himself.   
  
I sucked in a breath, and his eyes registered my excitement. He spread his fingers, and he started to run them up and down his cock. There was no sound except for the musical trickle of water from the shower, and a low panting from Heero. My skin squeaked on the tiles as I sought for a better purchase to support myself.   
  
"Is this what you want, Duo?" His voice was a hiss. His eyes were fastened on my groin, as I aimlessly fondled myself. I could see his free hand gripping the basin; the knuckles were whitening. His lips were slightly parted, moist with his saliva. Hair brushed gently on his forehead as his hips moved against his hand. The muscles of his arm were tightening and relaxing; the definition of his chest and abdomen was flexing sharply as he rubbed with a deep, familiar deliberation.   
  
"Yeah," I sighed. I could feel the terrible, tortuous ache starting in my groin again. He was gorgeous; he was a work of art. He was doing this for _me_.   
  
"You want more, Duo?" The words came out on a series of staggered breaths. He took his free hand away from the basin, and slid it down behind his back. " _I_ want more. Watch."   
  
I stared, fascinated, as he wriggled his ass, and winced very slightly as he reached his free hand down between his cheeks. I couldn't see, of course. But I had a damn good imagination. He leant very slightly forward, butt still balanced against the basin, and hand still firmly round his cock. The muscles of his lower arm and wrist flexed sharply as he probed into himself.   
  
" _Shit_..." I groaned. I realised that I'd started as a tease, and now I was playing with fire. I wasn't really aware of how tightly my own hand was clutching my cock - only of the sudden desire to start pumping. And the instinctive flexing of my own hole. My legs opened - my feet sought a different position in the water swirling round them. I was braced against the wall, and I was gently thrusting up into my palm. My other hand fell to my hip; it reached down as well, and started to ghost around my entrance.   
  
Heero moaned, and his eyes closed briefly. I wondered how many fingers he had inside him. How often he did this to himself. Whether he'd let me do it to him - and _soon_! Then his eyes flashed open again, and I could see the new sweat on his brow. His hips were rolling steadily against the pressure of his hand at the front, and his fingers at the back.   
  
"Is this what you want, Duo?" he repeated. It all seemed a hell of a lot steamier in here than it had been fifteen minutes earlier. His cock was straining out of his fist, the fierce, red tip shining, damp from pre-cum and the water vapour in the room. It was spitting at us; it wanted satisfaction. The tendons on his hand were raised; the veins purplish.   
  
"Come for me, baby..." I hissed. I dipped the very end of my finger into my hole; it sucked me in like a hot, wet clamp. "Are you close?"   
  
"Duo - I'm _damn_ close -" His eyes were glazing over, even as he stared back at me.   
  
" _Come, then_..."   
  
He did. His eyes widened, his mouth opened in a soundless cry, and he leant back into the fingers up his ass. His hand thrashed at his cock only a coupla strokes more, then it stilled, and the organ jumped of its own accord inside the clenched fingers. I saw the tip swell for its final explosion, then the seed spill out of the top and over his hand. He clung to it, fingers clamped like they'd become part of the stiff column of flesh, even as I saw him still hugging under his ass, still stimulating his prostate; still pointing his unfocussed gaze directly at me.   
  
It was the most exciting thing I'd ever seen.   
  
"Heero, I -"   
  
He straightened himself up with some difficulty, and set his eyes back on my groin. He was panting hard. His face was flushed from orgasm - his hand was covered with the evidence. I was still a little way off completion - but not far.   
  
"Not tonight?" he murmured. He raised an eyebrow, challenging me.   
  
" _Yes, tonight_ \- !" I hissed. It was too much to resist. _He_ was too much to resist! My troubled mind was lost somewhere under the streams of water flowing over me and into the drain. All I could feel was the throbbing need of my body; the need to be filled. The need for something far, _far_ more than my own, sorry fingers up inside me...   
  
He stepped forward more quickly than I did, and he came into the cubicle and up against my slick-wet body. He let out a deep grunt, as his bruised, over-sensitive cock brushed against mine.   
  
"Turn -"   
  
I did. I slid round in the half inch of water splashing at my feet, and I braced my hands against the wall. His hands were firm on my buttocks, and they began stroking them; kneading them. The water was diverted over my ass and down his arms. I was dreadfully ashamed that I was gonna beg - and loudly.   
  
"Heero - do it - please -"   
  
"Duo - I want you so much - but I can't, not yet -"   
  
"Something..." I moaned. "Give me _something_!"   
  
He paused behind me; then his hands moved off my body for a moment. He was reaching over to the cabinet outside the cubicle for something - he was scrabbling with the top of a gel dispenser. What -?   
  
It came up against my ass and I knew I wasn't gonna be asking for technical specifications. It was one of those back massagers, or something. Built in a totally suggestive shape, and probably in some lurid bathroom colour. Some of 'em even had knobs and ridges on, I knew, so that they could stimulate the muscles. You grabbed one end, and massaged the other against the tired muscles. A firm, deep pressure -   
  
I was groaning, even before he pressed it into me. It was cool, despite the heat of the bathroom. It was probably the latex, or smooth wood, whatever it was made of. It was slick, though, so he'd obviously eased its way with the shower gel. It was big, too. Big and firm in a way that Heero's cock was not - it didn't have the joyful, living heat of a real cock. The responsive throb of flowing blood; the soft smoothness of private, protected flesh. But my desperate ass opened for it, and closed around it again, with an obscene gratitude.   
  
Then he angled it, and it pressed on my prostate. I shrieked.   
  
He paused - I think he thought he may have hurt me. But when I didn't complain, he began to slide it in and out of me, wriggling it slightly to get purchase on me inside. His hands came close up to my cheeks; he cupped my balls under me, and rolled them gently in his palm; a perfect accompaniment.   
  
"I like you noisy.." he murmured.   
  
"Harder!" I hissed.   
  
He obeyed - I don't think he minded the demands coming from me when they were what he wanted to do anyway. He impaled me on the damn tool, and he massaged me from the inside out, again and again. His free hand slid away from my balls, and gripped my cock.   
  
" _No_..." I gasped. It'd all be over far, _far_ too soon, and yet that was what I wanted, wasn't it?   
  
"Oh, but _yes_..." replied the low, deep voice, and I think he was smiling. He was bent at the waist himself, laid close against my back, and I thought I could feel his cock against my leg - it was stirring. The hairs were ticking my inner thigh. We jerked together a coupla more times, but I couldn't have felt more filled, and my cock couldn't have felt more explosive. I was a lost cause. He stroked my cock, and probed my ass, and the water ran relentlessly over our crouched bodies. Every vestige of control escaped me and I slammed myself back against him, hurling myself back away from the wall. My wet hair tangled round my neck and Heero's arm curved round my chest to hold me upright, and together we watched the cum burst out of me and splatter on to the tiles in front of me.   
  
*   
  
It took me a long time to dry myself and gather my wits. Muscles ached; my ass was sore. It'd take hours in the morning to get my hair straight again. But I'd rarely felt so deliciously exhausted. I studiously avoided peeking at the massager, which Heero had cleaned and put away in the cabinet again. I had an ominous feeling it'd be fluorescent pink. I dunno - I thought it might either put me off sex for life, or I'd develop an unhealthy devotion to it.   
  
The light was dimmed when I came back into the bedroom. I didn't bother putting my boxers back on. Didn't want to look uncharacteristically coy. I could see Heero in the bed, lying on his side, propped up on a hand. Watching the doorway; waiting for me. There was a sheet over him, but it left very little to the imagination.   
  
"Come to bed, Duo."   
  
I slid in beside him. It was a shock of delight, to feel his fresh, dry skin against mine again. I almost groaned when I felt my cock give a little hiccup of hopeful lust. I didn't think I'd be up to much more tonight.   
  
And - surprisingly - Heero seemed just as relaxed about it. He wanted me - I could feel the life returning to his cock, as it nudged at my stomach under the sheet; but for the moment, all he did was kiss me, and stroke gently at my skin. I began to relax. I was ready for a damn long sleep... I wondered if I was gonna have to cry off work again tomorrow morning. Heero was bad for my employment record...   
  
I tried - but not hard enough. My mind returned to the problems surrounding us.   
  
"'Praps I will go to the cops tomorrow - turn in whatever information I have, whatever names I can remember. We could stop Shad from masterminding any more horrors -"   
  
Heero's fingertips halted for a second, then continued on across my chest. "Duo, it's dangerous, you said so yourself. Shad is looking for his scapegoat - and it's you. You mustn't put yourself at risk. I said I would protect you -"   
  
The phrase jarred on me again. This was extraordinary passion and care from Heero Yuy - the man of Cold Arrogance. I was silent, and he knew it wasn't because I agreed with him.   
  
"I don't want anything to hurt you, Duo. I want you in my bed again. I want you in my bed every night." His voice was low and sensual - it lulled me in the most warmly comfortable way, like hot chocolate on my lips. "Your body... your hair..." His fingers ran through it; it was still damp. He let strands of it fall on to his own chest, and his skin goose bumped underneath the touch. I could feel it against my own.   
  
"I have my own bed," I said. Stubbornly. It sounded childish.   
  
Heero made a sharp noise, as if he tsked. "I don't want to own you, Duo! For God's sake, isn't there a middle ground? I don't know how to say it - I've never said it -"   
  
And I didn't want to hear it - not at that moment.   
  
There was something else attracting my attention.   
  
*   
  
The sound of the door lock being cracked open was loud and unmistakable. To me, that is, who'd broken into many a deserted building before now. But never an occupied one.   
  
I put a hand to his mouth, asking for his silence. He understood immediately. I listened for a few seconds more, and heard nothing further. But that didn't necessarily bode well.   
  
"Stay here, Heero," I whispered. I slid off the side of the bed, groping for my pants. I didn't want to face Shad - or another heavy - butt naked.   
  
He mouthed, What -?   
  
"Stay here! Call the desk down stairs - no, hold that. Call 911. There's someone in the apartment." I stepped carefully to the door. It was already ajar, from when I'd come to bed.   
  
He lifted the phone, but I knew at once that it would be dead. The line cut, presumably. Certain events clicked into place in my mind. I realised now that there'd been no call from Kai - there wasn't _gonna_ be a call from Kai. The message had been sent, solely to get Heero back to his apartment tonight. Where had Shad been, for the last week - since Heero last saw him? Since Heero refused to support him? And what had he been planning?   
  
When Heero looked up at me, his eyes were hooded. I couldn't tell the darkness in them from the darkness of the apartment. I thought I would ease the door open - try to surprise the guy, whoever he was, in the hallway.   
  
I suppose I was distracted, taking a last look at Heero's body, sitting up in the bed. Muscles tense; hand at the covers, ready to throw them off and get up himself.   
  
Or it may have been the smell that was seeping into my nostrils; a strange, yet hideously familiar aroma that wafted around the doorway. The smell of a sidewalk; of metal, and blood; the smell of hatred and misery and pain...   
  
The door moved before I had a chance to touch it. There was a draught of air; a glint of metal. I moved, but it was like in a slow motion replay.   
  
And then I was tight up against the wall, my hands helpless at my sides, and a ten-inch open blade at my throat.   
  
Staring into the sad, mad eyes of a boy I knew only too well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

I stood totally still. The blade was close against my skin; when I tried to swallow my fear, I felt it peel into me, and the trickle of warm blood run down my throat.   
  
The boy stared up at me. I'd always been a good foot taller than him.   
  
"Baz..." I whispered. I didn't think I could get anything stronger out of my mouth at the moment. "Baz, don't do this."   
  
"Rat?" The boy's squeaky voice was familiar in one way. In another way, it was new; it was a strange, reedy twist of its natural state. Fucking drugs, I bet, I thought. That bastard's hopped the boy up to the eyeballs.   
  
"Is that you, Duo?"   
  
His wide eyes shone in the dim light. The pupils looked way too large. There was sweat on his lip, but his hand was steady. I didn't know whether that was good or bad luck for me. He had a grubby face, and wore dark clothes - no belt, no laces. Guess the poor shit was barely trusted out on his own. His hair had been dark blond when I knew him, but I couldn't really see it in this light; it stuck up on one side, like he'd slept awkwardly on it. There were some new, though healed scars on his arm, and I knew where _they_ came from. The whole wrist was crookedly misshapen; I remembered how I'd broken his arm when he killed Wufei. I wished - for the millionth time in my life - that I'd broken a lot more of him.   
  
"Yeah, Baz. It's me. Look - can you take this fucking knife away, Baz? It's too sharp for shaving -"   
  
He didn't move. And now I saw he had another blade, in his other hand. It was shorter - but serrated, like a hunting knife. He held it out to the side, and I knew that he had Heero covered with it, should he be rash enough to make a move. The boy may have been a hophead, and barely able to piss without help, but his control of weapons was impressively robust.   
  
"Can't do that, Duo." He peered again at me; looked stupidly surprised to see me. "Didn't know it'd be _you_. He just said there'd be the Japanese guy, and maybe a hooker."   
  
I winced. Not as if I hadn't been called it before.   
  
"That's me, Baz. I'm his hooker. We're just having a friendly little fuck here, and then I'm off home, OK? You wanna come along with me, have some takeout, get a beer -?"   
  
I knew it wasn't working; Baz had always operated on another planet to the rest of us. And although I'd not seen him for months, things had definitely not improved. He didn't look a guy to be distracted, not even by his old mate and pimp.   
  
"I didn't mean it, Rat. Duo. Y'know."   
  
"What?" I could see Heero stir slightly in the bed, and I flashed eyes at him over the blade handle, demanding that he stay put. His eyes stared back, hooded and unreadable. I don't know why I'd ever imagined he might take a blind bit of notice of me.   
  
"That night. I didn't mean t' hurt _you_."   
  
I really didn't want to think about that night again. Not now. Not when I was likely to get my own throat cut - it was obviously a favourite move of Baz's.   
  
"Sure," I sighed. "Sure, I understand."   
  
I didn't know whether to be pleased about Baz's need to gabble on to me. On the one hand, it may give me time to think up some escape strategy. On the other hand, it might just put off the evil hour. I was afraid that I'd disgrace myself - that I'd cry in the face of death, or piss myself.   
  
I remembered when he cut me last time. It had been so fast, so unexpected - I'd no memory of any fear. Just a coldness; a slight numbness as the cut sliced into my flesh. This was rather different.   
  
"He told me to," Baz went on. The blade stayed put, but it had loosened a little from my throat, so that I could speak more normally. His mouth was trembling a little; there was a saliva trail from the side of it. "The Chinese guy had t' go, y'see. He was gonna go t' the cops - he was gonna have me put away. That's what _he_ told me."   
  
"Who told you, Baz? Is this Shad you're talking about? Shad said that Wufei had to go?" I tried so hard not to choke on my friend's name. He'd be real pleased wouldn't he, if I went the same way as he did. Real fucking pleased that I'd learned so well from the experience...   
  
Baz shuddered. But his hand on the knife never wavered. "He told me if I did it, things'd be OK. He's gonna be in charge, Duo. He's gonna sort 's all out, with everything we need. But the other guys want t' stop him. They want it all for themselves."   
  
"That's not true, Baz. It's not a good thing for Shad to be in charge. And why aren't you working for Mr K anymore? What does Mr K say about all this?"   
  
"Christ, I never seen _him_! Not _him_! He's too fucking grand for me, ain't he?" whined Baz. "Shad talks for me, that's what he says. And Shad says that Mr K is weak, and he deserved t' be taken out. It's gonna be Mr Y and Shad in charge now."   
  
I heard Heero's indrawn breath behind Baz, and I cursed the fact that he'd drawn attention to himself. Even though we were both shocked to hear Baz mention Kai - that apparently Baz had already been to see him. We both knew what that meant.   
  
I doubted Kai was still alive. I had no doubt that _Heero_ was Baz's target now. It wasn't Mr Y who'd be in charge, or Mr K, or any of that family. It was Shad's own plan - Shad's own ambitions being acted out here. He'd be taking all the family out, one by one, until there was only him left. And if I happened to be around as well - well, might as well take me out, too, eh? He'd let me go at the club - but only because he'd suspected where I'd run. Who I'd be with tonight.   
  
And he already had that base covered.   
  
"Baz, just give me the knife."   
  
The kid gazed up at me - for the first time, I saw his dully dilated eyes waver. I used to order him around a lot - he used to quite like it. Baz always liked to know where he stood. Who was in charge. And I was always the one with the fast mouth, wasn't I?... I moved my weight on to the balls of my feet - I might have to dodge suddenly, and my reflexes weren't what they used to be...   
  
"Nah, Duo," he said, slowly. I could virtually see the rusty cogs of his mind grinding round. "I can't do that." I placed my palms flat against the wall - I knew I could launch out and catch him at the knees and bring him down - "Shad says -"   
  
"So we'll go and talk to Shad." I murmured softly - I didn't want to startle him. I just needed another inch or so, to wriggle out under the blade - " _I'll_ go and talk to him. Explain it all -"   
  
Then his head snapped up, like it was on elastic. A sharp elastic. As he lifted his arm with a gasp of frustration, my precious inch of potential escape was lost. The knife narrowed the gap between us both.   
  
"Baz - wait -"   
  
The blade shook a little under my throat, and I froze. So - luckily - did he. He slid it along my jaw line, and up to my cheek. It felt cold and merciless on my skin. He chewed aimlessly at his chapped lips.   
  
"Don't be so fucking stupid, Rat!" he hissed. His voice had deepened; he was no longer whining - he sounded years older. And now he was sly. "You don't tell me what t' do anymore, do ya? _He_ does. And I do what I'm told, and so I'll be OK. That's what you should do as well! Then I wouldn't have t' be here, takin' you both out, would I?"   
  
He missed the logic of this, but I wasn't gonna argue with him.   
  
Perhaps I'd given Heero ideas; perhaps I'd given him the opportunity. Whatever the way it was, he moved then - at the corner of my vision, I saw a blur of dark skin against the white sheets, and I tried desperately not to let the recognition show in my face. A smooth, but fast movement, his hand darting to the drawer of the bedside table -   
  
And suddenly there was a gun in his hand.   
  
I didn't have time to be astonished or grateful, or anything. Because although Heero was fast, Baz was faster. Baz had slipped the blade across and away from my cheek, and was beside Heero before I could gasp a warning. Before I even felt the cold metal leaving my warm skin; before I registered the long, thin slice on my face that was already starting to ooze a drop of warm blood.   
  
And even Heero was astounded by Baz's speed - he had the gun up and aimed, but the serrated knife flew from Baz's hand as he moved across the room, and it sliced perfectly across Heero's wrist. Heero shouted in shock and pain, and the gun fell to the floor. I saw the red welt on his flesh, and more blood starting to flow - then Baz was kneeling on the bed beside him and had the longer knife at his throat.   
  
"Stupid Japanese bastard!" he hissed. "Butt naked y'are, and wavin' guns like you know what to do with 'em. Thinkin' I'm a stupid little kid -! I'm gonna slice off bits of you and take 'em back for Shad t' see, 'cos he always thinks I do a real good job..."   
  
"Leave him alone -" I bit back the shout, but I was too late. Baz's eyes whirled round to include me in his murderous sight.   
  
"Don't be stupid as well as 'im, Duo! I can throw again from here. Or I can slice his throat 'n get t' you before you get t' the front door. I've done it before. Mr K was real fast, but not 's fast 's me."   
  
I saw Heero's eyes close briefly, then open again.   
  
Baz leant a skinny little leg out and kicked the fallen gun over to the window. It was out of everyone's reach now. "I fuckin' hate guns, y'know? I like a knife. It's clean 'n quiet, and you can get real _close_..."   
  
I stared at Heero with a look of desperation, and some kinda apology for our failure - his gaze flickered to me, then back down to Baz. He didn't dare move his head. He'd be cut like me, wouldn't he?   
  
Baz seemed to be enjoying the teasing. Little shit! He stared at Heero curiously, their faces only inches away from each other. He looked down at my lover's lap, barely covered by the sheet, and then snapped his watchful gaze back up. "Is he good, then, our Duo? Is he a good fuck? How much did y'pay for him?"   
  
I saw Heero's face tighten and settle into a cold mask. I wondered how he was gonna cope with this. His voice held none of the fear I could hear in mine. "He's very good. One of the best I've had. Worth every dollar."   
  
Baz sniggered.   
  
"You like a game, don't you, child?"   
  
"Don't call me a child!" warned Baz, angrily. But Heero had his attention, nonetheless.   
  
"Do you want to play some more? Before you kill us?"   
  
"Wha -?"   
  
"Why don't you take a look yourself?" said Heero, softly.   
  
Baz tipped his head to the side. "'Bout what? What d'ya mean?"   
  
"Have a bit of fun before you kill us both. Watch Duo at work. Watch me fuck him. I told you he was good. Would you like that?"   
  
There was a very long, very awkward silence. I'd sold Baz on the streets only a few times - he was too erratic ever to have made a good whore. He'd been with men - and he had an unhealthy devotion to Shad. But I didn't know if that was what turned him on. This was a strange strategy of Heero's, and I didn't think I was reassured by it. Not reassured _at all_.   
  
"You're a fuckin' pervert," said Baz, conversationally. He flexed the knife a little at Heero's throat. "You some kinda guy likes snuff 'n all?"   
  
"Maybe," replied Heero. His voice was low, and soft, and almost seductive. "He's lovely, isn't he? Got a great body...you can see that, can't you? And that hair..."   
  
Was it only me who saw the flicker in Baz's eyes? He'd loved my braid - used to be always touching my hair, 'til I'd get annoyed and push him aside...   
  
"You can sit right next to us," murmured Heero. Still in that soft, lulling tone. "You can keep the knife pointing at me. Just give me a little more time alive; one last fuck, eh?"   
  
Baz stared at him like he was genuinely disgusted. But there was a sick little flame of interest there as well. "Guess if he takes it up the ass for money, he deserves everything he gets, eh?"   
  
"Guess so," said Heero. Very, very softly.   
  
And Baz seemed to relax; very slightly, but enough for the knife to slide a little away from Heero's throat. "It might be fun, 'n all. Come on then, Rat. 'Praps it's my turn t' sell _you_ , eh?"   
  
" _Wha_ -?" I hadn't really thought there was anything in this...   
  
"Nothin' personal, Duo. Just like to see what you get up to y'self. See if it's as much fucking _fun_ as what I used t' take! Eh?"   
  
He was a little flushed - his eyes blazed. I was suddenly afraid that we'd pushed him further along the wrong path. Fumbling down at my hips, I slid my pants down my legs. Stepped out of them so I was naked again.   
  
Baz sniggered again. "Doesn't look too hopeful does it, Mr Japanese John? He looks pretty tiny..."   
  
"So would you, Baz, if you were waiting for some lunatic to cut your throat!" I snapped back. Jeez - it wasn't exactly conducive to an erection! I got a warning glare from Heero, but luckily it had all gone over Baz's head.   
  
"More of y' smart words, Rat. I don't know 'em so well. Just get on 'n fuck, and let's see if it's fun for me or not."   
  
I crawled across the bed, trying to catch Heero's gaze. I felt pretty damn vulnerable. I assumed he had some kinda plan. Though if it involved us actually having sex, he was gonna be outta luck. Like Baz so succinctly put it, I was totally shrivelled. And any other orifice was tightly clenched as well. Fear does that to a man, y'know.   
  
Baz settled on the bed, beside us, his grip on the long knife as good as ever; his eyes wary. He was animal-bright, in that he sat near enough to cut either of us if we moved on him, yet far enough that we couldn't grab at him unawares. I mean - I'm sure between us we could've taken him. But not without someone getting cut. And I'd seen the deadly accuracy of Baz's blade - seen how quickly and devastatingly cruel it could be.   
  
"'S that my cut, Duo? On y' side? Fuck, it's a real big one!" He stared with almost professional pride at the red welt on my torso. "You moved too fast for me, y'know - I couldn't get a proper angle on you. Then I realised you weren't the mark, so I guess that was lucky for you, wasn't it?"   
  
Lucky? The anger throbbed through both me and the wound. I carried that wound in memory of Wufei - of how he died. To remind me of a promise I made myself; that I was gonna make something of myself. For him. It no longer had anything to do with the boy who made it.   
  
"I ain't interested in your technique, Baz -"   
  
"'Praps you should be, Rat!" he snapped. He twisted the knife swiftly and skilfully in his grip; it fell back into its place before I even realised it had moved. He had perfect, total control of it. "You talk _shit_ -! I don't wanna hear you talkin' anymore, OK?"   
  
He stared up at Heero, now. "So how's you gonna do it, Mr John? Like a whore? Like a dog?"   
  
This time I was definitely the only one to see the shiver that ran through Heero's frame. He pushed the sheet back carefully and slowly, and knelt up on the bed himself. "On your hands and knees, Duo."   
  
I did what I was told. My mind was whirling. I was turned so that I faced Baz, and had to look at his wild, blinking, _putrid_ little eyes. At the glint of the blade in his hand, resting somewhere between his legs and my neck. If I weren't so petrified, I'd have thrown up in his lap. I tried to see the gun, but it was still way out of my reach. I cursed Heero's minimalist taste in furniture, for there was nothing else to hand that I could use as a weapon.   
  
I felt Heero's hand on my buttocks; he stroked me - it was like he soothed me. Was this gonna be the last time he touched me like this?   
  
Baz's head peered up at mine as I knelt before Heero. "You want me t' kill you first, or him, Duo? I mean, are you gonna come as well, or is it just for 'im? I'll wait for 'im, shall I?"   
  
"Yeah," I hissed. And then to myself; Whatever, you little shit...   
  
*   
  
It was all a bit shocking for me. To find that Heero was as aroused as ever - despite a wavering blade held inches from his face, and the threat of imminent death. I mean, I knew I was meant to be the one with the sexually sordid past, but even I drew the line at that...   
  
His cock rubbed up between my ass cheeks, hot and soft, though he was making no attempt to insert it. I was damn pleased about that, to be honest. I didn't fancy being dry-fucked just before I was murdered. Seems he didn't have that in mind, anyway. He moaned quietly, as if he was pushing into me; then gave a few thrusts of his hips, as if he was moving inside me. It was an act, it seemed...   
  
"Is he good, then?" came Baz's reedy little voice. "Is he tight? Can't see how he can be tight, after being on the street for s'long..."   
  
"He's tight," whispered Heero. "Very tight... Can't you see? Just look at how his ass moves... see how his hair flows out over us both..."   
  
He leant down over my back, and murmured in my ear. "Bend forward more. Spread your hair."   
  
"It's great, isn't it, his hair?" gabbled Baz. He had a hand in his lap now, so obviously this was a turn-on for him. "Guys used t' like it - said they got two for the price o' one - boy 'n girl!"   
  
I felt Heero grip at my hips; he was trying to tell me something, I was sure. Just wished I could translate it through the fear that was shaking my legs underneath him. He continued his pantomime, and I thrust back towards him, twisting an expression on to my face as if I was being well and truly fucked.   
  
" _Your hair_..." Heero's voice was a mere breath at my cheek, but I thought that I understood now.   
  
I lifted one arm and draped my hair forward. When it's loose, it reaches way down past my waist, and it was still wild from the shower incident. It was at its most unruly. It flowed across my shoulders, hanging down over our arms. The pretend fucking made my body rock gently back and forth, and the curtain of hair swished softly along with us.   
  
"Look at it," purred Heero. "You want to touch it while I fuck him? Just look..."   
  
Baz gazed, just that little bit entranced. Just that little bit distracted.   
  
*   
  
The movement was fast again, but it didn't come from Baz. One of Heero's slim fingers pressed sharply into my skin, and I took it as my signal. I swung my hair like one of those damn shampoo ads, and Baz twitched his head to the side to avoid the ends in his eyes. The wide, sweeping fall of hair obscured Heero's hand for a vital moment.   
  
Baz snarled, and snapped his head back, with some instinctive suspicion awakening. He'd forgotten his entertainment; he lifted the blade and pointed it straight at my neck. He was less than half a metre away from me, and I was a kneeling target. Hair or no hair, he couldn't miss.   
  
I was frozen there; stark naked, with Heero on my back, and a drug-crazed psycho about to bury his knife to the hilt in my throat. I could already feel the slice across my nerve endings; feel the promise of mortal pain. And then, as I stared in horror at Baz, there was a breath of air beside my ear, and a sharp noise that I hadn't heard for so many months that I'd almost forgotten what it meant. Baz sat there, arm raised, and a small, black hole appeared in the middle of his forehead. He looked nothing more than startled.   
  
And then he fell backwards on to the bed into a spreading pool of blood and brains.   
  
I fell sideways, in shock, I think. My ear was ringing from the report of the gun so close. Used to hear them a lot on the street... used to hide a lot, too.   
  
Heero knelt up on the bed, gun in hand. He stared down at Baz's body. There were still small drops of blood oozing from the knife cut on his wrist, but he didn't seem to notice it. His face was as calm as if he were looking at a pile of clothes, rather than a dead assassin.   
  
"Don't call me stupid, child," he said. His voice was still quiet, but now it was cold. Very cold.   
  
"A stupid man would never have had another gun, would he?"   
  
*   
  
It was an hour later. I'd stopped shaking, and pulled my pants back on. I was tired of feeling vulnerable in my birthday suit, however uninhibited I may be at other times.   
  
Heero and I dragged Baz's body off the bed, and left him on the floor, the ruined sheet underneath him like an open shroud. It didn't make much difference where he was, I guess, but it seemed obscene to leave him there, bleeding over the bed. Though I didn't expect Heero to be sending those sheets to the laundry after tonight.   
  
Heero had dressed back in his sweats; I'd bound up his wrist, and washed the shallow cuts in my cheek and neck. I twisted my hair up into a makeshift ponytail with an elastic band, then the two of us sat on the couch in the lounge. We'd been silent for at least half of the hour.   
  
I fetched a large vodka, and he watched me gulp a quarter of it down in one go. Guess I'll give up the drink again tomorrow. When he held out his hand, I passed it to him, and he took a long draught from the glass. Then he handed it back for me to drink. It seemed to me it was one of the most intimate things we'd ever done together.   
  
"He was high on something or other," I blurted, suddenly. The memory of Baz's wide, dilated eyes was still burned on to my own. I saw him every time I blinked.   
  
Heero nodded, thoughtfully. He didn't turn to face me, but he spoke to me. "Why did you tell me to keep out of the way? When you heard him break in?"   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"What were you gonna do, Duo?"   
  
I shrugged. Fucked if I knew. I was no action hero, really. "I just wanted - to stop him getting to you, I guess. This was so obviously a set up, to get you alone at home - vulnerable. So I knew if there was someone coming in, they were here for _you_. You're part of the family. They'd try to get at your uncle through _you_."   
  
"You thought you'd take them on by yourself - take on that maniac child, yourself. To keep him from _me_..."   
  
"I - well -"   
  
"You wanted to protect _me_ ," he said, slowly. It sounded like he couldn't understand the concept. Not sure I could myself, at the moment.   
  
"I wanted to talk him out of it - I thought I could!" Thankfully, Heero didn't tell me I was stupid, though I would've told myself. You don't negotiate with a lunatic like Baz.   
  
"He was too far gone. I know the look." The coolness was back in Heero's voice.   
  
"He recognised me -" I protested, but feebly.   
  
"He wanted to kill you, Duo. Don't be a fool."   
  
"A fool, a pimp _and_ a whore..." I murmured. I wouldn't meet Heero's eyes, either. Baz had said enough about my former life for Heero to know I'd done far more than supervise a bunch of kids. Just added to the disillusion, really.   
  
"I told you it doesn't matter," he said, quietly. "Who you were in the past. It shouldn't matter -should it?"   
  
I couldn't think that he'd ever asked my opinion on much of anything, except whether I wanted to fuck or not. And that was usually rhetorical. I answered with my own, indirect question.   
  
"You handle a gun well, Heero."   
  
"I said I would protect you. You just chose to ignore me."   
  
I smiled to myself, rather sadly. I didn't ask him if he'd ever killed anyone before, because I knew I didn't want to hear the answer. It had been a good strategy of his, to trick Baz; to save us both. But the sudden violence of the boy's death had shocked me. His face had looked almost normal as he lay on the sheet; as normal as a psycho _could_ look. And behind his spiky-haired head there was a seeping pool of dark blood. From the wound...   
  
The wound...my thoughts stilled. I grew very cold, and it was nothing to do with the air conditioning.   
  
Wufei... what would you think of all this, man?   
  
"Who was Wufei?" Heero's voice sounded sharply into the silence. It was slightly shocking, when the name had already been in my mind as well.   
  
"A guy I knew. A friend. A counsellor - he was helping the kids." Helping _me_... "Baz killed him - months ago. Just before I came back to live here. He was - he was a really good man. I - thought it was a random mugging, but now I know different." It was all part of Shad's master plan... the lump in my throat was the size of a rock.   
  
Heero shifted beside me; just to get more comfortable I think. When he spoke again, his voice was almost too low to hear the words clearly. "Was he your lover?"   
  
I gave a small laugh. "No. He wasn't that way inclined, I think." Though I would've tried to incline whatever way he wanted, when it came to it...   
  
"Was he like me?"   
  
This was just so _not_ like Heero, that I laughed out loud. "You're not jealous, Heero - I won't believe it!"   
  
"Would you have stayed with him? If he'd not been killed?" Heero was persisting with these weird questions. I was too tired to argue.   
  
"I guess so."   
  
"So - like I said. Was he like me?"   
  
"What are you saying, Heero?" Was he asking me to stay with him? Be with him, like I'd wanted to be with Wufei? I would have treasured Wufei's friendship all my life; I would have stayed as close to him as I was allowed. I would have followed his principles until they were my own.   
  
What were Heero's principles, compared to that?   
  
"I've been in that world, Heero," I said, slowly. I was still a little in shock, I think, and so I was treading very carefully along this thin, cracking ice that was our conversation. We had just killed a boy, hadn't we? In self-defence, maybe; but we'd both contributed to his death. Heero had fired the shot, but I'd been just as keen to see him dead, when I saw the blade in line with my throat.   
  
"I've been there. Kai's world. Shad's world. Baz's world. A world that appears to be yours as well. I got out, y'know? And I don't want to be sucked back in."   
  
He turned fully to stare at me. There were dark circles under his eyes that I'd not noticed before.   
  
"You needn't be."   
  
"We _need_ to call the police, Heero. Get this sorted out."   
  
"Soon..."   
  
I sighed. He was reluctant - so was I. There'd be questions. Suspicion. And then more questions.   
  
Or maybe there was more to this than just a healthy dislike of authority.   
  
*   
  
I don't know how much longer had passed. I wondered if anyone in the block had heard the shot - 'praps the cops were already on their way. I wasn't gonna be freaked out by the fact that there was a dead body in the next room, but I needed to get some things clear, and then 'praps I could struggle on with my life.   
  
I got up and found my shirt, and then fetched myself some water from the kitchen. The vodka time had passed. I wriggled the shirt over my head - I'd lost a button during our groping last night, and it gaped open a little at the neck. When I came back into the lounge, Heero still sat in the same position on the couch. His head was dipped slightly, so that I couldn't see his face.   
  
"You're a dangerous man, Heero," I said.   
  
"What?" He turned to me, amazed. "What do you mean? I wouldn't hurt _you_ , Duo - I would never have shot _you_ -"   
  
"I'm not talking about the gun," I replied. "Though there ain't many guys I know who have two guns in their bedside cabinet, I must admit. But it's more than that. It's the way you act; the way you instinctively expect attention. And obedience."   
  
"Now, Duo -"   
  
"Look at the way you fight," I rushed on. "I'm fast, Heero, but you had a hold of me on the street that time, before I had a real chance to react. That was your immediate reaction to a physical attack. It was damn good - and I guess it was from experience. And even tonight - you were cool with Baz; you didn't lose your head. You expect to deal with these things, it seems.   
  
"And your talk about Shad - about plans to deal with him. Would those plans have involved a gun, as well? Don't mistake my bleeding heart - I'd be as happy as the next guy to see Shad dead! But that doesn't make it right, does it? It just perpetuates the whole fucking mess..."   
  
"I don't know what you're going on about, Duo -"   
  
"Yes," I sighed. "And there's another example, eh?"   
  
He shook his head slightly, confused. He looked annoyed. His eyes had dropped away from me again. Was he trying to avoid my anger? Or did he have expressions of his own that he wanted to hide?   
  
"Another example of you lying to me! It's been going on all the time, hasn't it? No wonder I haven't had the chance to work out what's going on. I've only had half the story. You - your uncle - your cousin..."   
  
I saw him wince.   
  
"Yeah, Kai...You know he may be dead? Baz was mad, but he was also pretty thorough..."   
  
"Yes."   
  
"So don't you think you oughtta contact your uncle?"   
  
"Why?"   
  
"Because he'll be a target, too. For Shad, or some other Baz-clone that'll be waiting in the wings."   
  
"No he won't..."   
  
And then I slammed a hand on to Heero's shoulder, and forced him to look up at me.   
  
"Why not, Heero?"   
  
The look on his face was awesome; it was soft and hard and bitter, all at the same time. It tried to speak to me; it reached right through me to something far beyond. It was a look of angry challenge, and also a look of defeat.   
  
I knew I was _way_ out of my depth.   
  
It was only half a surprise.   
  
"Why not, Heero?" I repeated. I was gonna make him speak to me, if it was the last thing I did. I wished I hadn't chosen that particular phrase.   
  
His voice was cool again, but it sounded weary.   
  
"Because there _is_ no uncle, Duo."   
  
"Wha -?"   
  
"I have no uncle. He died over six months ago. And now my cousin's gone as well -"   
  
"No uncle?" I echoed. "So who -?"   
  
"- is Mr Y?" Heero completed it for me. "I am, Duo. I am Mr Y."   
  
"You -?"   
  
"This is my world, Duo. My business. My _family_. I am Mr Y."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"There is no uncle," he'd said.   
  
Heero had sat in front of me, and told me that everything I'd believed for the last few weeks had been nonsense.   
  
Things had been falling into place very gradually for me. Heero's arrogance; his air of authority. He was well used to command. And that attitude came from a confidence that was deep and secure; not just knowing he was damned attractive - not just knowing he was in charge of a downtown club.   
  
I remembered Shad's laughter when I asked him who was Mr Y. And it was obvious now, why he'd wanted me warned off. Presumably the boss could find casual affairs wherever he liked - but nothing that looked like it was becoming a fixture. He'd not want anyone close to the boss - to _his_ boss. He was planning on isolating Heero - on manipulating him as he wanted.   
  
Until he decided to take out the boss as well.   
  
I remembered Heero's own cautious interest in my past - what I might already know about Shad and the organisation. His cousin's organisation. _His_ organisation.   
  
I'd been wrong all the way along, hadn't I? Carried away with my childish, amateur detective work; my pursuit of the mysterious Mr Y. My misplaced concern that Heero was only half aware of what was going on - that he might need protection from his cousin's shady world, nudging its ugly way into his life.   
  
And why had I been so wrong? It was because I'd been lied to; I'd been misled. I'd not been trusted with the truth.   
  
Heero Yuy wasn't just a pampered relative. A favourite nephew, given the gift of a nightclub to run - to keep him occupied. Not just a rich playboy; a gorgeous man who found lovers wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.   
  
He was rich, true. And pampered. And _damn_ gorgeous... It was probably true about the lovers, too. But he was also a man who needed minders. Who was followed when he went round town. Whose background and whereabouts were hidden in the shadows, so that no-one really knew what he did, or where he went. Who probably gave orders to hundreds of people - employees, advisors and slaves.   
  
He ran the whole damn show.   
  
*   
  
It was the early hours of the morning, I guessed. I'd left my watch in the bathroom. There was only a little natural light through the curtains; no swell of sound from the street outside the block. I felt as disorientated as if we were on another planet.   
  
I sidled my body back to the other couch; I put my glass down on to the side table. Very slowly. It still rattled a little as it settled.   
  
"So now I know. Unless that's another lie..."   
  
"No," he said. "It's the truth. I tried to keep you out of it, even when I knew you knew so much already. I wanted to handle everything, but to keep you separate. It didn't work."   
  
"No, I guess it fucking didn't -!"   
  
He began to speak - his voice faltered. Then the confident persona that I knew so well recovered, and he continued, more calmly. "It's nothing to do with you, Duo - my business. There was no reason you should be involved - that you should need to know details. You said yourself - you don't want to be sucked back into that life."   
  
"Nah, no reason at all -!" I stood suddenly, as if to leave. Yet I stood there, paralysed. Stunned. _Angry_. What the fuck had I been to him all this time?   
  
Heero flinched. He musta been able to see my fury - I personally felt it like a sharp, hot, blue light around me. It was in my eyes; it was in the tension of my muscles. "It was for your own safety, Duo. Not because I wanted to lie to you. Besides, I didn't know who you were when we met - I wasn't sure, even later on. You may have been from Kai; you may have been - worse. There have been threats to me in the past; there are always potential enemies. Commercial and otherwise...   
  
"I didn't know, Duo - I didn't know all this would happen to us..."   
  
His voice was as deep and rich as always; it was just the words that were so astonishing.   
  
"Did you think I wouldn't find out? What sorta moron did you take me for?"   
  
"None, Duo. You must believe me."   
  
Why? I almost shouted. Why should I believe you _now_? You were happy enough to feed me lies before -   
  
Heero was watching the expressions on my face; he scowled a little, like he knew what I was thinking. "All right, perhaps I can't ask you for that, yet - but try to believe that I _want_ to tell you the truth. That I want to talk to you! It matters a lot that you listen to me - that you believe me. Eventually." He lifted a hand slowly, as if I were some kinda skittish animal he didn't want to frighten off. "Sit down again!"   
  
He musta heard the sharp tone of his voice; musta known that it was the wrong approach. _Boy_ , was it wrong! I saw the flash of horror in his eyes - very fleeting, but it hit deep. He bit at his lip and tried again.   
  
"Please don't go, Duo!"   
  
I didn't want to stare at him - I didn't want to lose my righteous anger into the dark, vibrant depths of his eyes. What I _wanted_ , was to see my face reflected in them, as I did when we were held close. I wanted to see that hint of nervousness, the softening of the arrogance that had been gradually disclosed to me over the last few weeks. I wanted _that_ truth, at least...   
  
I sank down on the couch again. My legs felt weak. My mouth was dry. I glared back.   
  
Heero moistened his lips - guess his were dry, too. "Thank you. At first, I lied for my own protection - as I lie to _everyone_ , Duo. No-one must know who I am, until I know their true position. And then I lied for _your_ protection. Because then I knew you had met Shad before - that he wanted you out of the way. And I wanted to guard you until I knew how to handle him-"   
  
"You treated me like a _fool_ -!" I spat out.   
  
"No - never that!" he sounded angry, now; distressed. It did, indeed, sound genuine. "I know you're no fool. And I never wanted to hurt you, Duo. _Never_! From the moment I saw you, you took me unawares. I - I never thought you would be so attractive. I've never spent any time with anyone, you see - never built anything beyond a night's company. I never wanted that - I never _needed_ that. But _you_..." His face twisted in real pain. "I know that I should have realised the danger much earlier. And as a result, I put you in _real_ danger; from Shad. From his lunatic child assassin."   
  
"Crap!" I hissed.   
  
"I would have told you about it all. Soon."   
  
More crap! I shook my head, angrily trying to scatter the shock from my sight and mind.   
  
"Duo - listen -"   
  
"No! None of that counts a piece of _shit_ against the fact that -"   
  
"What?" He was frustrated - angry himself. He leant forward towards me, his face grim.   
  
"You lied to me!"   
  
He sighed, then. And he gave up the attempted justifications. "Yes. Yes I did. _Plenty_. Happy, now?"   
  
Funnily enough, I admired him more for that than for continuing to argue.   
  
"Was everything a lie?"   
  
"No. Not everything - of course not! But perhaps now you can see a reason _why_ I lied. What would you have done in my place, Duo? I knew how you would be towards me, if you'd known earlier who I was - what I represented. I can see that so clearly, now, in your face."   
  
We glared at each other.   
  
"But I won't be labouring that point, obviously," he finished, his voice sharp and deep. Like Baz's knife. "I see that you've made up your mind, already; you know what you think about it. I don't expect you to be influenced by me. By what you now know of me." He was a proud man, Heero - I knew that. But so was I, in my own quaint, unique way.   
  
I let my gaze fall.   
  
*   
  
Some more time passed.   
  
Why the hell was I still there? In his lounge, on his couch? Feeling him staring at me? Wishing...   
  
_Fuck_.   
  
I should've called the cops by now. Or I should've left. Or I should've hit him again, and this time I'd make sure I did a proper job.   
  
Heero Yuy was some kinda mysterious mafia boss, and he'd fucked me so many, sweet times, and yet he'd never actually mentioned it. Hideous, frightening lack of pillow talk...   
  
I couldn't tell which had more power over me - my anger, my nagging, feckless curiosity, or my _heartache_...   
  
"How _much_ of it is true, Heero?"   
  
He started. He'd been gazing at me, but I'd kept my eyes turned away. I was aware of his hand gripping the couch cushion. The tension in his body.   
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"The business. _Your_ business. I can't guess at how much you control, Heero - how much of the city. How many Controllers you have out there; how many Shads, and Pecks, and probably even more Bazs. How dirty your hands are, even at second hand. How many kids have died on your drugs - how many protection rackets there are, how many frauds, how many brothels -"   
  
"Christ, Duo, haven't you listened to a single damn word? It's not like that here -! "   
  
"It is to _me_ ," I hissed, and he fell silent. "It _was_ to me, down in the worst gutters of your cousin's sordid little empire. Years on the receiving end - years of shadowy guys in charge, fucking us all up, in so many more ways than just selling our bodies." Losing my friends - losing _myself_. "That's something _you_ need to believe about _me_ , OK? How do you think I feel - finding that you're from the same family? From the same mould?"   
  
There was a silence, as I struggled with myself, and he appeared to give me the time to do that. Then he spoke.   
  
"I don't know how to answer that, Duo - I've never known those feelings. That life." His wary look seemed to be saying - that's _your_ problem, Duo; those are _your_ issues... And he was damn right they were.   
  
"But what I said was the truth - that the business here is not the same as Kai's. I'm the same family; but _not_ the same mould. Those are not _my_ behaviours; my objectives. Your anger is - it's - Duo, _please_ , so much of it is unfounded! Let me explain it to you." He took a deep breath, as if he were going to try a new, radical approach. As, indeed, it might have been - for him.   
  
"Give me a chance, Duo."   
  
I was still silent. Guess he took that as agreeing. Guess I did, too...   
  
He reached for my glass with a request in his eyes - I nodded him on. He took a long drink of the water. I tried to ignore the soft whisper of fabric from his sweats as he moved from the couch; the breeze of warm flesh that followed him as he put the glass back down on the table beside me. He made no other move to come nearer me, and sat back in his place on the opposite couch.   
  
"I was always expected to succeed my uncle, Duo, but he was a difficult man to follow. He kept so much to himself; and he had a festering jealousy of Kai's apparent success. I was rather intolerant of him, and the types of business he encouraged, even when I was younger; we didn't always get on. I tried to be involved with more, but it was usually only as a spectator; and he had no interest in my suggestions. I suppose that he had doubts about my succession, because in the end, I was - genuinely - only trusted with the club. I had the good apartment, and the high salary, of course - and always the respect that was accorded to the family. I've grown accustomed to that all my life. There will be - a certain arrogance in that. Perhaps I can see that more clearly now. I was also complacent, I suppose - and I've always got what I wanted. But I had little more than that to occupy my time...   
  
"He died suddenly. My uncle. Nothing sinister; just a cruel, fast-growing little cancer that finished him off within the month. It was, of course, unexpected, and many of the existing management didn't support me. But I didn't give them time to find anyone else - I knew enough of the organisation to step in and take over. And gradually they found that I ran the businesses well. I've pulled some of them round from uncle's mis-management; I'm proud of that. And there is so much more that I had planned..."   
  
He stared at me. For those few seconds, there was a light in his eyes that was nothing to do with me, or the shocking night we'd had. It was an excited light; a passionate one. I suspected that he was bloody good at his job. If he was given the chance to be.   
  
Did that make things better or worse, in my view?   
  
"I don't need the illegal business to succeed, Duo! I have talents, and I've learned to use them. I admit I've discovered that I'm not an easy man to work for - I have no patience for stupidity or laziness. I sack people; I strip assets from unprofitable subsidiaries. Changes have had to be made quickly and firmly - it's been only a matter of months that I've been in sole charge; I've had little time to make some decisions. I've had to watch my back every step of the way - and that's far beyond the protective presence of a couple of minders. So I don't suffer fools gladly. And yes, I like a good, rich life. Does that make me irredeemable?"   
  
"But you and Kai -"   
  
"He and my uncle went very different ways," said Heero, tersely. "Dammit Duo, I know a damn sight more about Kai's business and the opportunities there than you can ever imagine! We've been in occasional contact for the last few years, despite the rift between him and Uncle. Yes, you and I had very different experiences of him and his world - but credit me with the same intelligence you ask for yourself! Let's not be naïve about this, shall we? We all know what goes on. My uncle was easily led; the legal niceties were never going to distract him from promises of quick, fast, generous profits -"   
  
"Which you benefited from -" I hissed.   
  
He obviously couldn't help himself - he slammed a hand down on to the couch beside him, the angry palm slapping loudly against the taut leather covering.   
  
"I'll say again - what would you have done in my place? That was my role - that was my family! I inherited the whole damn lot, and I've had mere months to be up and running. I haven't even _seen_ some of the companies that are out there, even now...   
  
"But it's not the way I intended things to continue!" His voice rose, almost passionately. "I don't want that trouble - I don't particularly want to be involved in that. So maybe I'm not like your Wufei - I don't seek to devote my life to looking after others. But neither do I want to spend my life ruining them!"   
  
I watched how passionate he looked - how his strong shoulders shook with the fervour of trying to explain himself. How his throat clenched after each few words. I knew how I felt about him. And he was trying to persuade _me_ \- to explain to _me_ that he wasn't the scum I'd assumed he was.   
  
I watched the performance from outside of myself, thinking that I oughtta be cynical; I wanted to nurse my anger at the position he'd put me in. My head wondered how much of this was true, and how much was wishful thinking.   
  
While my heart followed every word. Hoping...   
  
"I was talking to Kai about closing some of the businesses here, Duo - the less reputable ones. I know he wasn't interested in cleaning up his own organisation - it served him too well for that. But he might have been interested in helping me out of a few - let's say - awkward situations. He cared enough for family to do that. And I would have made sure he was - _compensated_ adequately."   
  
"But the killings? There've been more, you know - across state."   
  
We were thinking the same thoughts - I could see the sudden, vivid shock mirrored in his eyes. The cold, still air around the dead boy in the next room - the fictional call from Heero's cousin, that would never come. Another relative gone - probably murdered. The sudden escalation of violence across state. _Shad_...   
  
"I was never involved in any of that, Duo! That was Shad - it always was. And _just_ him. Christ, I wish I'd realised earlier his strength, and the ruthlessness of such a singleminded ambition! Revenge against Kai; taking out the opposition - I don't know what the hell his motive was. I was only just finding out the extent of his work. Kai - Kai would have spoken of it tonight, I'm sure. I was just trying to find a way to get Shad out of the organisation that wouldn't lead to worse trouble - more bloodshed."   
  
He saw the cynicism twist across my face. "Yes, I know now, that was never going to be possible. You obviously know that side of the business _so much_ better than I -!"   
  
He was still angry, too - his words hurt me.   
  
But - sighed a small voice inside me - not as much as other things had done, in the past. And I was a big boy now, wasn't I? There was a soft-seeping thread of understanding springing up within me. Growing like a shoot out of a seed - one of those you grow on a school windowsill in a jar, y'know? All green and new. I resurrected a long-buried memory - all three of us had grown one of those seeds, when we were kids in school. Mine had shrivelled and cracked. Trow's had grown steadily and modestly until we planted it outside. Q's had lain dormant for the longest time, then burst up six inches overnight and sprouted a flower or whatever - he'd been the talk of the class for days. I tried to get him to admit he'd dosed it with something, but he never 'fessed up...   
  
I was rambling in my mind. I missed the guys. I wished I had their help now.   
  
Heero was trying to catch my eye - trying to gauge my mood. "I won't discuss how I have a gun - _why_ I have a gun. But you'll have to believe me that it's for my own protection - not for any assassinations, or murders. _Dammit_ , Duo, I've never wanted anything like that!"   
  
"And Peck? Shad?"   
  
"Peck arrived just as an employee. Then Shad arrived in his wake - thrown out by Kai. Everything I told you about him was true - his plans for our organisation; my dismissal of him. You know everything else, now. He'd thought that uncle's organisation would be a better chance for him. When he found out that uncle was dead, and that I was in charge...well, he thought I was just a boy; that I'd either be keen to follow his lead, or -"   
  
"- or that you'd be easy to intimidate."   
  
Heero inclined his head, in agreement. I looked at him there - sitting ramrod straight on the couch, eyes concentrated on me. Talking about his astonishing world. A wealth of amazing family history, and warring relatives, and the inheritance of crime, commerce and cruel violence - all there, in his eyes. And on his shoulders.   
  
Shad would have expected Heero to be drawn into whatever he, Shad had wanted.   
  
Heero would have expected to be able to control Shad. To dismiss him when he disagreed with his methods.   
  
I wondered which one of them had been the true fool.   
  
"You aren't easy to intimidate, Heero..."   
  
"No," he replied, softly.   
  
"In fact, I can't see you being scared of anything..." I sighed.   
  
His next words shocked me. "I'm scared of _you_ , Duo."   
  
"What -?"   
  
"Of the look in your face now," he almost whispered. There was a ragged edge to his voice. His eyes had genuinely widened - it did, indeed, look like fear.   
  
"Of your - _withdrawal_ from me."   
  
*   
  
I hauled myself up from the soft luxury of the couch and went silently to fetch more water. I had to pass in front of him, to get to the kitchen. His hand clenched even tighter; his body tensed. He was holding back from reaching out for me.   
  
I knew that Heero wanted to touch me; I suspected that he wanted to use his desire to influence me. He might have used it deliberately; it may just have been instinctive. How would he know otherwise? That had always been his way in the past. He himself had said that he couldn't change overnight.   
  
And - for once, in this mad night - I agreed with him on that. Because I'd felt the same arrogance about myself - for so long now, that it'd become more _me_ than my fucking braid. 'I am as I am', I boasted, to anyone who'd listen; there was no room for discussion. Not with the baggage there was around me, dragging of my arms to the floor like a fucking gorilla. Jeez - I was almost proud of it, I think.   
  
But things change, don't they? Whether we want 'em to or not. Like - we've all got baggage. From the day we're born - from each minute as it limps on, and the Lumps of Life bounce off us like tiny meteors - well, we all gather _baggage_ , don't we?   
  
How far do you let it drag back your progress into the future?   
  
And now, Heero sat as if he were welded to the seat, and there was more 'n one stick up his ass. The morning light was creeping across the lounge; it dappled gently on the couch cushion beside him.   
  
But I kept to my own side of the room. I stood in front of the other couch, drinking more of the cool water, and trying to make sense of it all.   
  
"You've kept me at bay as well, Duo." He spoke quietly, and I was startled.   
  
"What?"   
  
"You didn't like telling me about your past, either. Anything about you. From the time we met - I think that you saw me as just another john."   
  
"No -!" I protested. "Christ, I don't do that any more -!"   
  
"Not as a job, maybe," he agreed. "But your attitude is still in those times. As if that's the only way you can be with me. Don't you think we can be together, just as ourselves? For ourselves?"   
  
I stared at him, stunned. Was he right? Had I seen him as the one in control, whereas I'd been just as guilty of calling the shots? Hours ago, I was bandying words like love around, to describe the draw I felt towards him; the fascination; the hollowness of not being with him. But what had I let him know about that? Why was I hiding it? To protect myself - or because I was sure that it wasn't for me?   
  
Oh _fuck_...I didn't do introspection. It was too close; too painful.   
  
Damn! _Damn_ him!   
  
He was watching me drink. It was that way he had - his eyes dark and steady, and devouring my movements like I was his oasis in an enormous desert. I remembered the feeling of his hands on my hips - the sweet smell of his body in bed. The soft threads of his hair in my hand; the taste of his mouth as he opened it to take in my tongue.   
  
I knew he was thinking similar thoughts. He stood up, slowly. His body uncurled like a cat's; supple - elegant. Totally desirable.   
  
"You look so good..." he whispered. "May I touch you?"   
  
I just stared. This was the man who'd taken me on his every whim since the day he met me. Using such gentle words; to appeal to me like that. Showing an unusual respect for me...   
  
As if I deserved it.   
  
Why was he treating me like this? What was happening to us?   
  
"We can be so good together, Duo. Be with me. I want things to be good for us..."   
  
He stepped forward, and I stepped back. It was instinctive; and it shocked Heero.   
  
"Yeah," I gasped. "Like - I'd thought the same myself. But then there was all this confession, and your secret life - and the killing of stupid, pathetic Baz -"   
  
"So you're not going to accept it?" he growled.   
  
"Huh?"   
  
"The fact that I lied - the facts of my life. You won't accept it. You won't come past it."   
  
"No," I said, quite clearly, though I wasn't sure my mouth was listening to my body. To my hammering heart. To my twitching cock. He was close; we wanted each other, no doubt about it; and he was vulnerable to me. It was a heady combination. "It ain't that easy, Heero..."   
  
He searched the look in my face - guess he found something from deeper than I thought I went. His eyes went suddenly dull - like a wisp of cloud passed over the evening sun.   
  
"No. I suppose not."   
  
I bit my lip, trying to say what I didn't understand myself. "You live that life, Heero. You are that man. You belong there..."   
  
"Yes, it's my world, Duo. What can I say?"   
  
"I don't want it to be mine."   
  
"No..." he murmured. "You said. More than once. What do you want me to do about it?"   
  
"I dunno," I replied. "I wish..."   
  
"What do you wish?" He'd moved a step nearer me, again. I reckoned I could feel the heat off his body. The chill horror of the night in the bedroom had passed into a warmer morning. It was welcome cheer, whatever the circumstances.   
  
"I dunno," I grumbled again. Seems my vocabulary had deserted me, along with my wits. I wanted him to touch me, now. Didn't know how to say yes. Didn't know whether to say no.   
  
Heero sighed. "I see."   
  
"No," I sighed. I just seemed weary now - the anger was dissipating. The mess remained. The pain was throbbing. "I don't think you do. I'm just trying to say that this isn't exactly what I want, Heero."   
  
He raised a thin eyebrow. "What _do_ you want, Duo?"   
  
*   
  
I hadn't expected Heero to ask the question. Who ever gave a fuck what I wanted? Your friends, my tired brain sternly reminded me. Past and present. Grow up, Duo Maxwell! You can't be a self-appointed victim for ever. _Things change_...   
  
"I want to know," said Heero. "Would you want to go back to the time before you met me?"   
  
Christ, what a thought...!   
  
"Yes, I would," I said, brutally honest. "I was starting out all over again - a new life, good friends. Job was OK - nothing special, but legal. I'd escaped that miserable time. I was gonna make something good of it all."   
  
Heero's face was pale. His hand clutched at the fabric of his sweats. I thought I could see the sweat drops on his forehead. I knew how they'd taste... a salty-sweet appetiser...   
  
He said again, "I see..."   
  
I threw my head back in frustration. "But - shit - I can't ever _do_ that, Heero! Not now! Meeting you has turned the whole fucking show up on its ass. I'm different, now - you've changed me! I can't remember a time that anyone disturbed me so much; that I was ever so absorbed in someone. That I was ever so alive!"   
  
"Not even... Wufei?" he asked, softly. Like the words hurt him to say; like they were something sharp in his mouth.   
  
I felt the swell inside me; the need to talk. The need to tell him how I felt. The overwhelming feeling that it was now or never! Caution got hurled to the winds - I could be as honest as he professed to be, couldn't I?   
  
"That was my old life, Heero. He was my old life - my old friend. I'll never forget him - but I came here to move on, didn't I?" I felt Heero tense, only a foot or so away now. "But it was a sham, I think - my * It was never gonna work like that, not long term. D'you remember - you once said that I lived for the sex? That ain't exactly the case, either - but it was honest. You've made me realise I was just hiding it all inside. Just hiding the way I am - the true nature of me; the passion in me. I thought it was the only way to make my new start; to mould the new me. To keep it all buttoned up; ignore it all. After all, those were the feelings that always got me into trouble; the passions that could be manipulated, and twisted, and _sold_...   
  
"But it was damn awkward! And then I met you, and it all just burst out - so wild, that I thought I'd lost control. It felt fucking _good_ , but I didn't welcome all of it, and I've been fighting against it, even as I leapt right on in with both feet. But although I feel like shit right now, I know that I feel more comfortable in my skin than I have for a long time. I've let you drag it all out of me - all the things I thought I wanted buried. Perhaps it's just that I should have controlled 'em a different way."   
  
"That's - good, then -?" he said, tentatively. Christ, I was a constant surprise to him, I knew...but that was what made us good together, perhaps. _Could_ make us good together. I agreed with him, there. Painful though it was to face.   
  
"Yes - and no," I sighed. "Because now I want more, y'know? Or else, I did, before all this happened. Not just more fucking and crawling about in corners, though that's been so damn exciting I have trouble walking straight at times, just thinking about it all -   
  
"But more of you."   
  
He looked wary again; the deep whirlpool of his eyes caught me and held me, and churned up every sense _beyond_ sense. I think I was gabbling. The words spilled themselves out of me.   
  
"I wanna sit and hold you and talk to you. Play cards with you - make meals together. I wanna watch a movie with you. I wanna take you back to meet the guys, and maybe go out for a drink together - just sometimes, cos Q's social expectations can be a little overwhelming for long periods of time...!"   
  
I ran my eyes over his body - the smooth, softly heaving chest. The muscles, clenched along his upper arms. The tasty little hollows between his neck and his collarbone. The juicy, lush little pads of his earlobes...   
  
"I want more of your body, Heero, but I wanna do it without condoms. The fantastic, impulsive sex! I wanna be around you long enough so that we can check each other out, and know enough about each other to be clear. Then we can give everything - truly spontaneously."   
  
I smiled, a little nervously. "And I guess I wanna be seme - just once in a while! With you. I can't describe how much that thought nags at me at night.   
  
"I want... I want...all sortsa things..." All sortsa things that I'd never realised. That I'd never allowed myself to think about.   
  
He let out a small gasp that brought my attention back to him. He was swaying very slightly. He was staring hard, like he seemed to have been doing for aeons, and his expression was pure astonishment. I was flushed, and breathing heavily with the rush of words, and when he put out a hand to steady both of us, I let it rest on my shoulder.   
  
For a soft, silent moment, we leant into each other. Nothing more than a hand on a shoulder; the warmth of a palm on my knotted muscles. A fingertip's gentleness, ghosting across the taut skin of my neck.   
  
"But that's not gonna happen for us, is it?" I whispered. "Not the way things are. Not after last night."   
  
"Let me touch you, Duo..." he breathed. That's what it was like; he was a breath, seeping into my pores. They opened for him. _I_ opened for him. My hands came up from my sides, and they slid underneath his arms, and I let him gather me in to him. His torso was warm under my touch; my chin rested gently against his chest.   
  
He held me there and we breathed together.   
  
I'd told him, hadn't I? Not in so many words, but...I'd be eternally grateful for that.

*  
  
"I want you, Duo."   
  
I know, I know, my body nodded to him...   
  
"No," he murmured in my ear, as if I'd said it aloud. "Not just the sex..."   
  
That's all I know! the sorry part of me wanted to cry. That's what I'm good at - what I understand. If we move beyond that - what fucking success do _I_ have with relationships?   
  
"The sex has distracted us, hasn't it? But it's a disturbance beyond that..."   
  
"Is that how you see me?" I laughed, lightly. Trying for that insouciant air, that I normally do so well. "I'm disturbing as well?"   
  
He laughed out loud, and I was shocked with how harsh it sounded. His chest shook against mine - his hands tightened on me, in case I drew away. "I have no control here, Duo! But I've always been used to being in control; I've always been the one people deferred to. It's what I do - it's what I _am_!   
  
"I'm adrift, Duo! I have been for as long as I've known you. The ropes slipped their knots that very first time, though I'd never have admitted it. That first time, when the danger was no longer entirely mine ... I couldn't put it into words - I don't do that. That's what I kept saying to myself. But I was consumed with the need I had, to have you again. To hold you - to fuck you - just to _see_ you again. I saw you with your friends, and not with me - I saw you laugh, and walk away, and argue with me, and _touch me_ where I didn't ask -"   
  
I couldn't recognise the Heero I knew. Or - let's face it - thought I knew. Strange, intimate words were tumbling out of him, and into my ear and my neck, but the breath was warm, so it must be real, mustn't it? The hands on my waist were the ones that had lifted me on and off the kitchen table. The lips that blossomed at my cheek were the ones that had kissed me, and teased at my nipples under the sheets in the dark...   
  
It was Heero - and it wasn't. And my whole body welcomed it.   
  
The low voice thrilled as always - but it was less than entirely steady. "You've taught me many things, Duo. Whether you meant to or not - and whether I was willing to learn or not. I'm learning to be angry - to be desperate. To be _unsure_...To question myself. To open my mouth to talk, not just to demand..." He sighed. "It's my turn to say what I want, yes? I want _you_." His lips whispered over my forehead, and I felt my face turning up to him. "I want your body - I want to be inside you. Every night. I want your hair loose and spread over my skin. I want your hands teasing at my thighs; I want your generous mouth over my cock, drinking me."   
  
He was almost kissing me; almost. There was a millimetre of hot, charged breath between our mouths. I wanted him so badly that my heart had stopped and was tapping its watch, waiting for connection.   
  
"When I eat, I want you. When I walk, I want you. When I smile, when I dress, when I wash - I want you. When I _breathe_..."   
  
" _Shit_..." I gasped. "When you learn to talk, you talk, y'know?"   
  
He ignored me. Or rather - he kissed me. Just with his lips; firm, moist, plump lips, that pressed his need into mine, and breathed his desire through my body.   
  
I kissed back - I took it further. I pressed my tongue to the sides of his mouth; I lapped at him until he opened his lips, and I slid in. Who was in control now? No-fucking-one, I sighed to myself. He tasted of tension and anger and sweet, sweet lust, but underneath it all he tasted of Heero. Pure man. Pure proud, arrogant, newly-lyrical man.   
  
"What does it mean, Duo?" he murmured. His tongue responded; he thrust into my mouth, and his fingers tightened fiercely on my arms. I felt the stirring hardness in his groin, through the soft cloth of the sweats. Christ, those were the days, eh? "Tell me what you really think of all this..."   
  
I drew back, licking at the delicious taste of his saliva that lingered on my tongue. I trailed a hand on his chest - I couldn't resist the touch of that warm flesh any more. He shivered.   
  
"It's the best thing I've ever had, Heero."   
  
"So -"   
  
"And maybe the worst as well..."   
  
He looked startled. "Isn't that what we've been saying? It needn't be. We can just do what we want -"   
  
I smiled a little. "I can't do impulse any more, Heero. Look where it's got me!"   
  
"You - _did_ -"   
  
"Yeah." I sounded rueful. "Damn, it was great! But now I'm fucked, in all senses of the word. It'll take me months to get over it again." It was, 'praps, an attempt at a joke. 'Praps I meant it.   
  
He was tension personified again - I felt his body straighten, and his hands lift off me. "Why do you need to?"   
  
He didn't understand, of course. "What do you think, Heero? Don't you see where we are this morning? There's a dead boy in the next room, and a psychotic maniac out there, looking to destroy both you and your livelihood. You're a man with a life and a persona I never knew existed - and I'm just fucking _worn out_ with turning it all over in my head, and finding I'm not what I thought, either. You think we can just roll back into bed, and things are gonna trip along the same way as ever?"   
  
"What do you want, then?" he asked again. With more than a note of frustration. "Do you want me to abandon it all? Do you want to take it all to the cops and bring it all down around me, and see me -"   
  
"What?" My voice was gentle, and it asked him to finish his thought. His face screwed up with confusion.   
  
"I won't ask that," I said. I put my fingers to his face, and traced the worry line across his forehead. His hair brushed my skin - his breath huffed against my wrist.   
  
His face changed, then. He seemed to draw himself up, and the cool mask slipped efficiently back over his features. He was, again, the Heero Yuy I had met that first time - the man who had nodded to me, oh so slightly, and lifted a glass in invitation. The man who owned the place. Who owned a lot of things. But not me.   
  
And he knew it.   
  
"You said you wanted to get out of this life, Duo. Perhaps I do, too."   
  
I gaped. But he wasn't looking for my agreement, or even my sympathy. He was just stating his case.   
  
"I want the chance to be different. Now I've met you. Isn't that what you wanted for yourself?"   
  
"I - " I blathered. "I - yes, I guess so. "   
  
"I want out, Duo."   
  
God, it sounded so simple, the words oozing from his mouth! Heero was a man who'd rarely been refused anything in his life. A man whose confidence and personal charisma might well make anything happen.   
  
"Heero - I said I won't ask that. And do you think it'd be that easy? How would you do it? To become Mr Ordinary, like me...Would you drop it all? Bankrupt yourself? Sell your businesses? Let Shad take over? I don't see that happening, somehow... and there's still the little matter of Kai's death, and our own little contribution in the bedroom. There are too many things coming out in the open now - way beyond just _us_."   
  
"Shad..."   
  
"Yeah. Shad. He mustn't be left free, Heero. The killing's got to stop - there's got to be some end to this."   
  
"Yes, I know. And you, Duo?"   
  
"Me?"   
  
"You said it - there's more to this than just us, isn't there? This whole night - the crazed child... the reminders of your own previous life..."   
  
"Yeah," I sighed. "There's a _hell_ of a lot more to this than just us."   
  
"You won't ask me to change... not even when I want to be with you..."   
  
I hushed him, with my fingers on his lips. _Damn_ , they were rich pastures...   
  
"I want to be with you as well. But I got things to do - to sort out."   
  
He stared at me. There was the ripple of something on the heavy flesh of his mouth; my fingers stroked it away.   
  
"So what will you do, Heero?"   
  
He swallowed - I felt the soft vibration in his throat. "I think that's up to you, now, isn't it?"   
  
To me? But I knew what he meant.   
  
"Ahh, Duo...Come here..." It was his pleading voice again, and I just knew I wasn't gonna be refusing _that_...He was moving back towards me. I was leaning towards _him_. He held out a hand, and I raised mine to match it.   
  
"What do you want?" he whispered, yet again.   
  
"What are you offering?" I murmured. I let a smile slide across my face.   
  
He smiled as well, then, and shrugged. "According to you, I have nothing to offer you, Duo."   
  
Ahh... "No, that's not true," I replied. My fingers spread slightly, and reached for his; five fingertips touched five others, and pressed gently together. It was an electric feeling - the current ran swiftly and shockingly through my veins. Our fingers slid slowly down, and interlocked. His palm was slightly sweaty.   
  
"You have so much to offer - and so much that I want. That I _need_ ," I whispered.   
  
"But -?"   
  
"But I can't take you up on it."   
  
*   
  
I went back into the bedroom, and stared at the mess.   
  
At the boy lying bleeding on the floor. I stared at the wound for a long time, and knew that the flow had stopped, and the glistening had started to coagulate into a dark, maroon stain.   
  
It reminded me of Wufei.   
  
I knew now that it wasn't my fault that Wufei died. He was still dead, of course - and the pain still wrenched at me. But some of the terrible guilt had eased. I'd been part of the world that had killed him - but it hadn't been my hand that had harmed him. It hadn't been my order that had sent Baz to kill him; it hadn't been my negligence that had led him to that spot, that night.   
  
His words were still clear to me; his cool wisdom - his unassuming friendship. His desire to help others; and not in some insincere, sanctimonious way.   
  
His steady belief that I could be better.   
  
And I knew so clearly now, what my way should be.   
  
*   
  
I came back into the lounge, and Heero was still standing. But he looked steady on his feet now. Actually, he looked damn gorgeous, as ever. He'd slipped a thin tee-shirt on, of some satin fabric; dark blue. He looked respectably dressed, and yet I could see the movement of muscles under the cloth - the hint of erect nipples, that made him look erotically half-naked. He'd run a hand through his hair, and the dark locks curled back over his ears. He displayed a casual elegance that I'd never seen anyone else do so well.   
  
I knew who he was, now. I knew some of what he'd done. I knew less of lots of other things. I knew I'd told him how I felt about him - and he'd returned the compliment. I didn't think he was gonna lie to me so much any more.   
  
Part of me didn't mind either way. I had my truth. And, anyway - what did it matter now?   
  
I drew a deep breath, but I wasn't afraid. Just needed to bring things back under control. "I must call the cops now, Heero."   
  
A flash in those eyes. He'd obviously been thinking things through as well, while I was out of the room. "Yes. I know that."   
  
"I have things I gotta tell 'em..."   
  
He inclined his head, in that way he had. The curls behind his ears slipped out to caress his face. His eyes were hooded.   
  
"And if I tell 'em about Kai - and Shad, and Baz...which I will...well, there's no way, Heero, that it won't come back on you. We both know that, don't we? Even if the murders can be pinned to poor, stupid Baz. Even if they catch Shad - _especially_ if they catch Shad. I can't see him going down without dragging everyone else with him. Even me, perhaps..."   
  
"I know."   
  
Damn man, I thought. Now is _not_ the time to return to monosyllabic conversation...   
  
"Is that what you want, Duo?"   
  
This was so fucking difficult... "I want to tell them. I want to get myself clear, at last. But - I don't want you as part of it." Was that selfish of me? Was that even possible?   
  
"So, Heero - like I said - what'll you do?"   
  
He pursed his lips. I leaned, involuntarily, towards them. He looked like he'd been making decisions as well.   
  
"Give me a couple of hours. Just two. Before you call. To allow me to arrange things."   
  
"The gun?" I asked.   
  
He shook his head. "It's not registered anywhere."   
  
"This apartment?"   
  
The answering smile was slight, but it was there. "It's not in my name. It wouldn't be traced back to me."   
  
I laughed lightly. "You're a non-person, aren't you, Heero?"   
  
He was silent. The chill spread slowly across my body.   
  
"You're gonna run, aren't you? You're gonna go away, so they won't find you -"   
  
His eyes met mine, and the dark chasms were hiding both fear and decision. "There are too many things that would drag me into it, Duo. If you open even one of those avenues with the police, it will rebound on me and mine. I would resist it - I would make a case for my own personal innocence, and I'd win it, perhaps. But I can't afford to be gathered up in it all now. Shad is still loose, and can do too much damage - and the businesses here are too vulnerable. With Kai's death, there'll be confusion and lost direction; someone of the family needs to hang on to what we can. But we're _all_ vulnerable - and dangerously so. This family has enemies inside and outside the law. I need to work on salvaging what I can - but not from here. _I_ would take my turn as the scapegoat."   
  
"Your work here - your life -"   
  
He shrugged, very lightly. Though I knew he wasn't really careless of it all. "It must be left for a while. There's no other choice. There are some people I can trust - I'll make what arangements I can."   
  
"Will there be anything left to come back to -?"   
  
His eyes flashed. "I don't want to tell you anything about that, Duo. Do you understand?"   
  
Yeah, I did. He didn't want me to know anything that might incriminate me. Or 'praps he just meant that there wasn't gonna be anything left for him to return to. Or 'praps he wasn't gonna return...   
  
_Fuck_.   
  
"They'll come after you -"   
  
"The police?" He shook his head slightly. "I don't think so. Or not for long. There's not enough I can give them, to make it worth the resources. They want Kai, and his organisation - and they want the murderers. They'll have that. You'll make sure of that. And if they do come after me - well, I won't be easy to find."   
  
"If they can't find you, Heero - neither will I. Will I?"   
  
He stared at me. "No, you won't."   
  
I ached.   
  
"Come with me, Duo."   
  
"What?"   
  
He stepped forward, and although I tensed, I let him take hold of me again.   
  
"Come with me."   
  
I mean - people describe some of the defining moments of their life as the hardest thing they've ever faced, don't they? The most painful decision they've ever made; the most heart-wrenching choice they've ever taken.   
  
I mean - it's just shit, really, isn't it? To be in that position...   
  
And I was.   
  
"No, Heero."   
  
His hands, tight on me. His knee, brushing mine. The whole smell of him; the remembered taste.   
  
"I must stay here."   
  
*   
  
It seemed very easy now, to explain. To put into words; the way that I was gonna be now.   
  
"It's my promise, Heero, y'see. My promise to myself and to Wufei." A promise bound by a wound.   
  
"I'm gonna accept the past. And then lose it! I'm moving on - but properly this time. I'll accept the great friends that I have - treasure 'em. Let them help me with all those issues - all my _baggage_. Accept -" I met his eyes. "Accept relationships, if they come along.   
  
"I wanted to live up to what he wanted - what Wufei thought I was capable of. What I deserved. But I've been taking the line of least resistance for years - constantly pitching below standard; doing only enough to get by. So as not to be noticed.   
  
"My past was always with me - that's where I thought _I_ belonged. I couldn't see anyone could ever forget it. I couldn't seem to forget it myself.   
  
"So that's how I'm gonna be now!" My voice was jarringly bright in the silent room. "I'm gonna make my own choices, and ask myself exactly what I want - and I'll live it properly. Set the slate clean. Build up some respect for the guy I'm waking up with each morning. Start again with some more realistic goals. And they'll be mine; and they'll be honest.   
  
"And my choice is to stay here. To do what needs to be done to stop this mess before it gets worse. You know that, though, don't you?"   
  
He stood like a statue. Only the hitch of his breath, and the pulse in his throat showed me that he was listening.   
  
"it's - it's partly to do with _you_ , Heero, y'know? Meeting you - finding you. And that's what makes it so bad. So fucking _bad_...   
  
"I want this new me, Heero." My voice had raised. "But I don't - Heero, I don't wanna do this for what it does to _us_."   
  
When he spoke, the sound rippled round me like I was in some kinda deprivation tank; I could barely make out coherent words. I hadn't realised how tightly I was holding on to my senses.   
  
"I won't lie to you anymore, Duo."   
  
"Sure, I know..."   
  
He was trying to tell me something again, with his eyes; I could only see misery, and it was depressing me beyond anything else. _Shit_ , I thought I might cry or something - that'd be a great start to a better me, eh?   
  
"So - maybe I'll stay here with you."   
  
"No!" I almost shouted, which startled us both. What would they do to him? Where would he end up _then_? "I don't want that for you -!"   
  
Our eyes musta looked the same anguish; the same realisation. It just wasn't an option.   
  
"No, of course not..." he whispered.   
  
"Good." I sounded shaky, even on the single word.   
  
"But - I would; do you know that -?"   
  
"Yeah. I know..."   
  
*   
  
It was a coupla minutes later. The talking was sort of drying up. There wasn't much more to be said, was there? Well - nothing that would make anything any more cheerful.   
  
Heero appeared back in the lounge - he'd been to the bedroom to pack a few things.   
  
"You OK with this, Duo?"   
  
"With letting you get away?" I laughed, like it was a great big, daring joke. "Yeah - I'm OK with it. There'll be enough from me to keep 'em occupied without the aiding and abetting as well...I mean, it's not like I'm Mr K himself, is it?"   
  
We stared at each other. We'd cleared up a lot of stuff between us, hadn't we? I didn't blame him for anything done in his cousin's name; he didn't despise me for coming to him from out the gutter. We just had all this _baggage_...   
  
Yeah, I thought; it was heavy, and it was complex, but if we didn't move on, it was gonna bury us both.   
  
This was the best way to come clean. To start afresh.   
  
"I - don't want to get away, Duo. From you..."   
  
"Yeah... I know."   
  
He dropped the bag and came over to me. I thought I should probably run - really fast, and in the opposite direction, but I didn't. I didn't want to. He took hold of me, shifting his body against me, and I felt his hand brush against my cheek.   
  
"I must call them, Heero."   
  
"Sure." His voice was like silk; it was like a hot shower on a cold day; it was pure, unadulterated pleasure. "Just give me a little time, OK?"   
  
He kissed me again, then. He reached an arm around my back, and tugged harder at my waist, and I folded into him like melted chocolate. We were warm, and the taste of him was poignantly sweet. His mouth was firm and demanding, and I was happy to surrender to it. I wrapped my arms round his neck, and traced the pattern of his hair at the nape; remembering it within my fingerprints. His hand slid up and down my hair, wrapping strands around the fingers, and tugging almost playfully, directing my mouth against his whenever it tried to shift away elsewhere. Our tongues were very fierce - very hungry.   
  
I touched the soft silky top, and slid my hand up underneath. He felt rich and exotic, and the flesh wrinkled gently under my touch. My fingers travelled round to his back, and then down to his waist. I caressed gently along the waistband - he'd changed into casual pants, and they hugged him around his hips. I felt him draw in his breath; felt him press his body closer to mine, so that I had to wriggle to rest my swelling cock against the side of his, rather than full on.   
  
"No?" he murmured. His hips moved so slightly that only I would have realised what they were asking. I moved back, adjusting myself to the side again.   
  
"No..."   
  
He smiled. "Sure..."   
  
He did his own investigation; his own memory game. He ran his lips down my neck until I thought I had no more blood left in my body except the amount that was engorged in my groin area. He traced the profile of my face; he ran hands down my sides and hips, and would have run them round to ass and my inner thighs if I hadn't stopped him. A man can only stand so much sensory ecstasy -   
  
"I won't see you again, Duo. Touch you."   
  
"Argue with me..." I whispered. Lame fucking joke.   
  
"No," he agreed. "That neither."   
  
He pulled away from me abruptly - we were both suffering from flushed faces, and painfully aroused cocks. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and we both made our way to the door to leave. I wouldn't call the police from here. I didn't know what Heero was gonna do in the way of 'arrangements', but we both needed to leave this place far behind.   
  
At the door, he paused. He turned to me and placed a single finger on my mouth. He ran it gently from one side to the other. When it lingered there a little longer, I slipped my tongue out to moisten my lips, and I kissed the tip of it.   
  
He shuddered.   
  
And then he left, striding up the corridor to take the lift, and to go fuck knows where.   
  
*   
  
I can't tell you where I went for those two hours, because I can't remember. I think I probably gave Heero much longer. But as the sun was getting stronger, and the morning was turning out its joggers and early rising workaholics, I found myself walking in the park. I paused by a public phone kiosk. Must be time, I thought.   
  
Time to turn into Mr Honest Citizen.   
  
I called my apartment first, and I can't describe the relief when it was Trow who answered. I mean, I'm mad about that blond guy as well, but Trow... he's something else, isn't he?   
  
"You OK, Duo?" He never asked _where - who - what_ \-   
  
"No," I said, quickly. "But I'm not hurt. Trow -"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Will you call that friend in Vice - set up a meeting for me?"   
  
I heard his sharp breath. Then he let it out again. I just knew that he knew - or at the least, he empathised. "Sure. Soon as you like. If that's what you want."   
  
"Yeah, it is. And T -"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
I tried not to sound too pathetic. "Will ya come and pick me up?"   
  
I told him where I was, and he was there in minutes. The guy would see me now, he said. If I was up to it. He looked at my bleak eyes and my white face, and his expression said that, personally, he didn't think I was. But I had him drive me down to the station.   
  
Bless him, he waited until I was done, sat quietly in an outside office. Called his work, and squared it with them to take time off. Then he watched me through the window, as I talked. As I shifted awkwardly on my chair - raised my voice a coupla times. And when he thought they'd had enough of me, and he knew they weren't gonna hold me, he walked straight into the office where I was and collected me.   
  
And took me home.   
  
I had no regrets about the whole thing, y'know.   
  
Just a huge, fucking pain in my chest where I used to have something that pumped blood round my body.   
  
*   
  
I'd told the police lotsa things, of course. Well, almost. I gave 'em names, and information about Kai's organisation, and plenty of detail on Shad. I saw guys through the partitions at headquarters, scrambling into jackets, and loading guns, and barking down telephones. It was most amusing to see 'em leaping into action like that, on my say so.   
  
I didn't tell 'em anything about the previous night at Heero's apartment. Somehow I didn't think it would add much. Well - that was _my_ expert opinion. When they probed into Kai's world, and Shad's murky little cesspit, there'd be plenty to lead back to Heero - if they wanted to follow that up as well. Let 'em work a bit for that.   
  
They found Baz's body within the hour - it was rolled in mud and refuse, and wedged down behind the dumpsters at the back of the local hamburger joint. No evidence left of where he might have actually died. Caused all sortsa Health and Safety issues for a month or more. That made me smile a bit - just a bit. After the rats had been round him, there was still enough left to give good DNA samples 'n all; last I heard, he was being fitted up against four murders across state, including Wufei's and Kai's, and they were still counting.   
  
The greater shock came when they found Shad. Two days later. He was staked out in one of the kids' playgrounds. Literally staked - with ropes around his wrists and ankles, tied to the equipment. There'd been an anonymous tip-off to the police, so's no little kid would go bounding in there the next day and be the first to find him. I thought that very considerate.   
  
He'd been gagged and suffocated, and then stabbed - many, _many_ times. By many different hands, it seemed. Adult hands - and little, kids' hands. Lots of cuts - deep, shallow; hard; weak. Musta taken place over hours, in all. Lots of kids had motive for that. I wondered if they'd all travelled from Kai's city - or whether they'd sent their welcome proxies to do the job. That musta taken some serious 'arrangement', I thought.   
  
That nice girl Anna at the police library told me that the force piled into Kai's empire like it was a day out at the beach - full of enthusiasm and zeal and packed lunches. Trowa's contact told him that there was no particular evidence that led back to this city, though they'd be investigating the family connection; especially since Shad had been found here. Had been operating here. I wished 'em luck with that. Not.   
  
The Yuy empire seemed to fold back into itself, without fuss. There were no stories of major commercial crashes; no high-profile arrests. A coupla businesses that had never been secure, nor entirely honest, had closed down; Club Underground was under new management. The stories about Mr Y had fizzled to nothing more than street fiction.   
  
Like I said; I told the police lotsa things.   
  
I told T and Q everything else.   
  
Sudden impulses seemed a long way away. A _very_ long way away.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by FancyFigures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Remember me?   
  
I'm the guy who wasn't looking for anything controversial in his life. And then proceeded to tell you how the plan all went wrong.   
  
Damn near broke my heart. Well - you know that, already.   
  
And here I am, back to the beginning of my story. 'Praps the end. Whatever you wanna make of it.   
  
It's been a while since all that action. Since two police forces combined to sweep up mob activity across two cities, including almost a dozen contract killings, shed loads of drugs, and half a home-full of abused kids. They didn't get everyone responsible, of course. But they got the skinny, drug-riddled child murderer Baz. And they got Shad - all 180-odd pounds of him, trussed up and sliced like Sunday's joint of ham. Neither of 'em were talking much, 'cos they were dead by then. So they were of limited use to the police.   
  
But I'd be the first to admit that justice - however rough - is sweet.   
  
Meanwhile, I was serving out a six-month probationary sentence for my contribution to the whole sorry situation. There'd be no charges against me; though I couldn't be allowed to get away without some official retribution. But when my help and information were set off against my previous record - well, I guess I was more saviour than devil.   
  
It was OK, actually. Part of the sentence was that I helped out at the counselling centre once a week, organising jobs for kids, and answering questions for 'em about Life and Liberty in a language they'd understand. I was surprisingly keen on it, to tell you the truth. I was damn nervous to start with, thinking they'd all find me a real dork - yeah, I was my usual self-deprecating self! Haven't quite matured out of that, yet. But the kids were OK, once they'd got over the Big Fuck-You Shrug thing, and toned down their language, and bothered to listen to me for a while. And the guys at the centre said I had quite a flair for it. My supervisor said I could communicate well with the young people; I seemed to be able to identify well with the relevant issues.   
  
Yeah, I thought wryly. Right!   
  
I checked in periodically with my own counsellor - that was one of the conditions of my probation. A decent enough guy - not Wufei Chang, of course. But it was probably better he wasn't; we maintained a more suitable teacher/pupil relationship, and after we'd both got the measure of each other, it was a pleasant enough meeting each time. And now there were only another two months to run, and I'd be - officially - clean of any involvement with the whole operation.   
  
I'd be Mr Honest Citizen in every last sense.   
  
I was still living at Trowa and Quatre's. Life was much the same, yeah? But I was quite different. I smartened myself up - I tried following a few more current affairs programmes, rather than the cartoons. I did a few more things round the apartment to help out. I learned to cook a coupla dishes more than my previous repertoire of grilled hamburger, and grilled hamburger with onions; I was even able to entertain the guys sometimes. T ate anything I put in front of him with quiet approval; though Q snickered about it the first time I tried, so I had to whap him with the saucepan, y'know? Then he threw a fork, and T's plate got knocked on to the floor, and everything deteriorated into laughing and yelling and - eventually - takeout pizza for us all. But we didn't mind - and he didn't snicker the next time.   
  
I was still doing casual jobs on the site. It was familiar enough for me to slot back in, and then I could spend my energies on sorting out all the rest of my life. But I snuck into the college one late night, and enrolled on a counselling course - only as a complete beginner, y'know? But I thought it might give me some more options. Snuck right on back out again - and there was T, in his battered old car, saying something about he was 'just passing' and did I want a lift back? He had a really pleased grin on his face, which he was trying hard to hide from me. Looked like a proud father, or something equally sappy and nauseating.   
  
I had to grin back. No secrets, there, eh?   
  
I dated that cute girl Anna from the police library - remember her? Well - she dated me, really, 'cos I wasn't particularly in the market. But we went out a few times, and she was good company. It was great to have friends outside of the guys; great to do some of the normal things friends do. Watch a ball game on TV; see a movie; grab a bite to eat of an evening. She was a lovely looking girl - wide smile, lotsa appropriate curves, cheeky sense of fun. Q said she was really keen on me, 'he could tell', haha. He's got a great lust-light bleeping in his head at all times - works better than any military radar I could imagine. And from the way she snuggled up and touched at me when she could, I knew she wanted to go further. We're both consenting adults, obviously - so why not?   
  
I'll admit that I was turned on enough to give her encouragement - my body's been crying out for attention other than my own handshake. I can't remember, y'see, when I last got that intimate with someone. No, that's not true, of course. I can remember very, very well - but I daren't let that memory in. It leads to misery, and long, stiflingly hot, wet dreams...   
  
But when we kissed, the taste was all wrong, y'know? Her lips were fresh and enthusiastic, but they felt somehow alien - our tongues licking at each other's seemed more of a shock than a thrill. She was warm, and delicious to hold, but when we cuddled, her body always seemed to be in the wrong place for me. The wrong shape. Not pressing the right buttons, anyway. I mean, don't get me wrong - I like girls as well. I've had my share, and they're sexy and exciting and ... like I said, I was keen in one way.   
  
But where I expected the tight, smooth skin of a dark cheek, my lips brushed against delicate, perfumed softness. Where I thought to touch taut muscle, there was tender, pliant flesh. I stretched my hands wide to hold her shoulders, and yet she was so much narrower than I thought. When her hands came up under my shirt, and ran lightly over my chest, the fingers were tentative and her palms weren't damp with that sweat that comes from desperation and pure, animal need...   
  
Just the wrong person overall, I guess. I shoulda known it all along.   
  
So it was very clear to me it wasn't going anywhere, and I didn't like to mislead her. Not her fault, in any imaginable way. I just wasn't ready for that - not yet. If ever. I thought we'd just stay as friends...and she was OK about it. Like, she smiled and said she understood. Though I didn't see her in town for a while, so I suppose she might have been avoiding me.   
  
*   
  
So, I was sorted, nowadays. I was comfortable with T and Q. I'd offloaded the guilty secrets. I was gonna become a Normal Citizen again; my life was back in my hands. I had a steady - and straightforward - job. I was possibly going back to college. Yeah - I was living up to my promise at last.   
  
I was happy.   
  
Sort of.   
  
I reckoned my head was the straightest it'd ever been. When the supervisor at the counselling centre asked if I'd be interested in a placement at a centre up north for a few months, as a counsellor's assistant - I was pleased to say 'yes'. Pleased, because it was something I thought I could do well, and it'd link in with my studies OK. Pleased, because it meant someone had thought of me as suitable - had thought enough of me to think I could do it.   
  
And yet - emotionally, I felt the worst I'd ever been. I struggled with moods of depression; I wouldn't go out with anyone except to quiet, discreet places. Occasionally, the words or gestures of an anonymous person in the street would strike a familiar chord in me, and pure feeling would just swamp me. Sudden, exhilarating excitement; then cruel memory; and then just pure misery.   
  
The guys tried to help, like the good friends they are.   
  
On the one hand - "It'll pass," said Q. "Try dating again..." He wasn't unkind, y'know - just pragmatic. And always enthusiastic about the opportunities that life had to offer.   
  
And on the other - "You did the right thing," said T. "Everything's coming together so well, isn't it? And it's all due to your own efforts, Duo. But don't try any more dating for a while..."   
  
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He knew how I felt. Christ, I'd have gone mad before now if I hadn't known there was at least one person in the world that did!   
  
"Duo..."   
  
What? my weary shoulders said.   
  
"I know you're lonely. I know how that is. But it'll come, I'm sure. One day..."   
  
What will? I thought, bitterly. Though the bitterness wasn't directed at Trow. What will come? Amnesia? Comfortable celibacy? A satisfaction in solitude that'd last me through the rest of my days? He surely didn't mean true love. Only guys like T and Q found that.   
  
Why did I feel that my punishment had been disproportionately harsh?   
  
*   
  
Didn't I say once, that things change?   
  
*   
  
The call came late at night, on - surprisingly - Trowa's mobile. He and Quatre were experimenting with new pasta sauces in the kitchen - there was a lotta laughter, and the occasional clatter of a dropped spoon, and I suspected that there was gonna be nothing edible outta there for future suppers. They were too easily distracted; I knew that Q had nothing on except an apron and a pair of cut-offs that were the living embodiment of 'shorts'. But they were happy enough, and it left me free to brood, whilst pretending to fix the scratchy reception on the TV. Not the greatest at DIY, me.   
  
I heard the trill of his 'phone in the background. The theme from 'Top Gun' - it always made me smile. No words, but then the sound of his feet coming up the corridor. The door rolled open, and he was there, staring at me. A tentative look on his face. There was some tomato sauce on his cheek, and a single string of spaghetti on his sleeve. His shirt was half unbuttoned - he looked almost guiltily flushed.   
  
"For you, Duo."   
  
He handed it to me. I held it, confused. Then he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.   
  
There were people who rang me nowadays. For work; for the occasional night out. But no-one rang me this late. And not on Trow's phone.   
  
"Duo...?"   
  
The voice was as deep as always, that depth that curled my toes and spoke to my uke side like its long-lost master. But it was quiet now. Maybe a little nervous.   
  
"Heero? Christ ... Where are you?"   
  
"Can't say at the moment."   
  
"You're - OK?"   
  
"I'm fine."   
  
What else could I say? I sank down on to a chair; my legs were weak. Nerve endings that had been cauterised for months sprang back to life. My bowels felt loose. I thought I may be losing control of my limbs.   
  
"Damn, you should be keeping a low profile, y'know?" I gabbled. There'd been a time at the start, when I first went to the cops, that I thought they might be bugging the phone at the apartment, in case he contacted me. Trow had told me I was being paranoid. And then when I saw how much was going on, it seemed arrogant of me to think they were interested in my love life that way. And he never contacted me, anyway, of course.   
  
Of course.   
  
So I pretended I'd stopped waiting for it.   
  
"Mind you, I think the whole Mr Initials business sounded rather boys-comic when it was balanced against the best haul of illegal substances the force has seen this last year. They've got all they need - they may not be bothered with you now..."   
  
His low laugh halted my spew of words. "A good thought, Duo. But I won't come back and risk it, eh?"   
  
"No - I guess not." No, I thought. I guess that would be real stupid.   
  
There was silence, while I wondered what mobile rate T was on, and if it was gonna cost him a fortune if I just kept this line open for the rest of my life, listening to Heero breathing.   
  
"How are you, Duo? Did they give you a hard time?" His voice sounded halting, as if he'd been trying to train himself to be conversational. Trying to phrase words that would be appropriate. It hurt a little - to hear Heero like that. I wondered what he'd been through since he ran.   
  
"Nah," I smiled, though of course he couldn't see me. "I mean, they didn't bang me up or anything. I've got six months community service to do, but I gave 'em enough to get a line on the guys in charge, and the kids and the drugs. I'm Mr Honest Citizen, now."   
  
"You always were..." came the murmur.   
  
"And Shad.."   
  
"What about Shad?" The tone was wary.   
  
"Was - that you, Heero? Did you - arrange that?"   
  
There was silence, and I cursed myself. I threw words into the gap like pebbles into a crevasse. "No, don't tell me, Heero - you're right, I don't need to know. I understand now. I know how it works -"   
  
"Hush, Duo," he said, gently. "I said I wouldn't lie to you again, and I won't. But you know the answer already, I suspect..."   
  
I bit a lip that was quivering. Why was I wasting my precious time on a shit like Shad?   
  
"So what are you - up to then, Heero?"   
  
He gave a low laugh. "I sold a lot of the businesses. Kept a few. I'm - well, I'm mainly in pharmaceuticals, now. Medicinally - not recreationally, before you ask."   
  
I opened my mouth to protest, and shut it again. It was just such a joy to hear his voice, even distorted slightly, as it was over the line.   
  
"Doing well, then?"   
  
I wished he'd say my name again...it sounded so good in his steaming-hot-chocolate tone...   
  
"Duo..." he seemed to sigh. "It's a slow path. Trying to get businesses going again. Legitimate ones. I'm - well, I'm using another name. A - different history, let's say. And - understandably - my personal credit rating's not too good!"   
  
"Guess you're not on too many social security lists, eh?"   
  
"Guess not." Another small laugh. "Your humour -"   
  
"What about it?"   
  
"Nothing. Just - I miss it..."   
  
A little silence. It was quite companionable. Then I got scared.   
  
"Heero - you seeing anyone, then?" How crass, I groaned to myself; how moronic, how rude, how pathetically clinging -   
  
"No, I'm not." There was a pause. I couldn't tell much from his tone now.   
  
"Heero -? Are you still there?" Christ, I thought he was going...   
  
"Yes, I'm here. What about you, Duo?"   
  
"Who - me? Seeing anyone?"   
  
"Yes." The voice was dry. "Is there as much choice on the cleaner side of the street...?"   
  
"Maybe!" I snapped. What did he mean, the arrogant smart-ass -!   
  
"Don't -! I didn't mean..." Another sigh. More like a groan. "I'm still not very good at saying the right thing, Duo."   
  
"Yeah," I replied, ruefully. "'Praps that's what I miss from you, Heero!"   
  
More silence, while I forgave him everything, but couldn't tell him. My fingers were numb from gripping the phone so tight.   
  
"Heero -"   
  
"Yes. What is it?"   
  
"I've gotta new job."   
  
Pause. "That's good."   
  
"Starts when I finish my probation. It's up north. I'll be working away. Coupla months or so, they say. Helping kids - setting up a new centre there. Did I tell you, that's what I'm doing now?"   
  
"You're moving from the city?" What did that sharpness in his voice mean?   
  
I took a deep breath. My chest was constricted; my throat dry. Ideas were springing to mind whether I wanted them to or not. Whether I thought any of them were any good or not. "I dunno. Maybe I'll keep on at the apartment, if the guys are OK with it. I don't know if it's worth moving lock, stock and barrel until I know if there's more work up there. If I know - if there's anything more of anything up there."   
  
It was the first time we'd talked anything about the mundane things of life - about work; money; somewhere to live. This was weird.   
  
"Heero -"   
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Are you up north somewhere?" My heart was hammering so hard, I couldn't hear my words clearly.   
  
"Yes. I guess you could say that." He paused. His voice went on, a little lower. "Or I could be."   
  
Fuck. My hand was shaking around the phone. I couldn't think what to say next.   
  
His voice broke in. Guess he could.   
  
"Duo -"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Will you have a number up there? An address?"   
  
"You gonna call me, Heero?" I sounded just a little too sharp - I didn't mean to.   
  
There was a hissed breath on the other end of the phone. "If that's a brush-off, I know I -"   
  
"No!" I snapped. "Call me, Heero! I mean it!" God, did I mean it! God, did I have the knack of fucking things up -!   
  
More silence. I was terrified I'd lost the connection. But it seemed that neither of us was putting the phone down.   
  
"Duo..."   
  
"Hm?"   
  
"It's no good. It's not working for me."   
  
"What isn't?"   
  
"Everything. I miss you. Like hell. Like I said - I don't want any other."   
  
Yeah. And look at me! I thought. I drag my way through the days like I really am in jail. I do my work, and I pay my dues, and I ache throughout it all. I rarely go out, and when I do, I'm always keen to get back. To brood; to obsess on the pain inside me. To wallow in the loss of one of the few things I ever truly wanted. Some days I never contribute more to a conversation than a coupla sentences. I reckon I'm a better wooden spoon than I am a friend to T and Q.   
  
I can't date - I can't forget the smooth skin, fragrant with his own, musky smell; the soft, dark hair; lips tangling with mine. His delight in touching me; in running hands through my hair; strong fingers down over my ass. I can't forget the feel of the strong arms round me - the legs rolling between mine; the incredible, anguished ecstasy of being fucked by him. My nights were a mess of frustrated tears and aching balls.   
  
I want those things I told him about; the company - the argument - the teasing - the sharing. And I want them with him.   
  
Yeah...I think all that showed I felt the same.   
  
I took a deep breath. "So - you think it's safe, Heero?"   
  
"What?" He sounded startled.   
  
"To meet up? Are you very far away?"   
  
There was another, sharp intake of breath. "No - not that far. Not at the moment. But -"   
  
"Tell me where you are," I said, urgently. I was wondering where my toothbrush was. "I got four days before I have to check in again at the centre. I can travel as I like during that time."   
  
"But -"   
  
Oh, I'd had enough of this! How long had I waited to hear from him?   
  
"Shut the fuck up with the buts! Let me put this suggestion to you, OK? I'm gonna come north, and I wanna see you then - no, it's more than that. I wanna be with you!" Remember? Remember? I begged silently. "Then we can see if we wanna stay there - or not. Together - or not. I mean - maybe you won't want that. Depends how the jobs go - depends how safe it is, eh? Or - whatever -" What a fuck up I was making of this!   
  
Another urgent breath, before I lost my nerve.   
  
"But, the thing is, Heero - or whatever your name is now! - I don't wanna wait two more months. I wanna see you - now!"   
  
The door was opening slightly, and I cursed whoever was interrupting me. But it was T, clutching a travel bag, and pointing to his watch. "Cab arriving in ten," he mouthed. "For you. To the coach station!" He backed out quickly.   
  
"T - " I gasped.   
  
Heero's voice spoke at my ear, laced with tentative amusement. "He told me I could ring you. I called him - I didn't know what else to do."   
  
"You called Trow?"   
  
"Yes. I - remembered his name from when he booked the club. I still had his number. I - didn't know how you'd be, if I contacted you first. But I thought he might know. You said he was a good friend..."   
  
Yeah, I thought wildly. He sure is -!   
  
"He knows -? Where you are?"   
  
"Yes. But - look, Duo - I move about a lot at the moment. I don't have any decent place; it's not like the apartment -"   
  
Christ, I thought, with a smile. What an arrogant prick he really is...   
  
"If I cared about furnishings, Heero, I'd have fucked a cushion, OK? Meet me anywhere. Coach station; park; coffee shop -"   
  
Just meet me, I prayed.   
  
Sudden panic.   
  
"You want to see me, too, don't you?" God, was I wrong -?   
  
"Yes," he whispered. "Yes - please."   
  
My heart shrieked its joy. Thank God they never gave a cock a voice.   
  
"We'll talk about it then, OK?" I chattered. My heart was hammering again, but this time it was with excitement. "What we'll do - how we'll work something out -"   
  
"Work something out -" he echoed. He didn't say the 'yes, please' again, but it was there in his tone.   
  
"Sure!" I almost shouted. I could hear the cab beeping its horn outside the apartment block. "Just - "   
  
"What?"   
  
"Just make sure it's somewhere out of the rain, OK?"   
  
I flipped the mobile closed even as I heard his low laugh. I ran for the door.   
  
The End


End file.
